9 steps (II)
by syriana94
Summary: 9 steps, 9 colors, 9 months. Robert and Cora are expecting their first child, yet a series of dreadful and unknown events threaten their blessed waiting. Sequel to "Dangerous Games". Has the shadow left something undone? Will they ever get rid of that mystery upon their lives? {Part of the "Young Cobert Horror" serie ⁓ Sequel: "The Lost Child"}
1. One, Black

**NdA: Hello my dear Cobert friends! Here's the sequel of _"Dangerous Games"_.  
**

But first, a little guide (please do read n°2):

*1* Dangerous Games & 9 Steps:  
For those who didn't read it or don't want to read the first story, let's say that something dark and evil came to the Abbey just to shakes things up.  
We were left off with Robert and Cora fighting the demon with their family and eventually winning, with a big surprise as a reward.  
Their future has the makings of a perfect, happy and peaceful life.. or not? _9 Steps_ ' here to answer that question! **  
**

*2* **How '9 Steps' is structured** : **  
**This story is divided into 9 chapter each of which has a small **opening paraghraph** temporally 'detachted' from the rest of the chapter itself - what those little paraghraphs are about, you're going to find out in the very final chapter, the 9th. In the meanwhile, just remember: _9 steps, 9 colours, 9 months. **  
**_Every chapter will be focused on a **particular episode** , during the infamous nine months, linked to a **specific color** ; every chapter will leave equal space to the **horror** part  & the **fluff** part, after all, they're Robert and Cora expecting their first child. It _has_ to be fluffy. **  
**

*3* Last warings (I love you all): **  
**That said, I'd like to thank from the bottom of my heart all the readers who reviewed, followed and favourited DG {witchoesed; Countess of Cobert; sinceyoufellinlovewithme; lulin; lazy-cheesecake; AllAboutTheAbbey; Aquila Lestrange; FilmFanatic32; StarGirl2242; thepuppiesinpink} I hope to find all of you here and entratain you ( _you_ , old and new ones) as best as I can!

I wish all of you a good reading and please remember I'm not English so forgive my mistakes! **  
** _If you'd like to help me, please report them in the review so I'll improve my skills! Thank you so much!_

 ** _Enjoy!_**

* * *

 **One.**  
Cold stone beneath her feet. She couldn't feel it.  
She balanced her weight, then she stopped.  
The wind tossed her dark curls on her face, her nightgown got stuck to her body like a second skin, revealing her slim figure, long legs, the thin arms wide-open.  
Her swollen stomach, evidence of her late pregnancy, appeared nearly odd upon the childish figure she carried.  
Her eyes were closed and her lids suddenly trembled.  
She was there and yet she was not. She was dreaming?  
 _Black_. All she could see: black.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

 **Late May 1890**

A couple of weeks had passed since the joyful new and now that they had been blessed, they almost forgot they'd been cursed too.  
No one in the house could forget what they'd saw and at the same time no one of them spoke of the matter ever again: there was no reason why.  
Slowly, everyone returned working like nothing happened, the wake-up call rang at six o'clock in the lower floors and around eight o'clock in the upper ones; like the flowers in the gardens outside, maids and valets rushed through the bright corridors and halls of the manor, spreading a gleeful feeling despite the hard work, like hundreds of persevering bees.

Robert smiled at the sight of the last maids rushing downstairs, hands full of brooms and dusters, in the latest attempt of hiding from his eyes.

"Good morning Milord."

"Good morning Carson." Robert smiled proudly, bowing a little at his mother's side, kissing her cheek. "Good morning mama, good morning papa." he walked to the other head of the table where his breakfast was served and bite a toast.

"Where's Cora?" his mother's voice was a mixture of disappointment and annoyance, tone he'd learned to know now that Violet Crawley had something to complain about without feeling guilty.

"Upstairs. She's still sleeping. Beside, mama.." he swallowed and started to drink his tea "It is a costume for the wife to have her breakfast in bed.. She told me so."

"Hear hear." Violet turned his head to her son with a shock glance. "She's turning American on you." she threatened Robert pointing her butter-knife toward him.

Robert laughed a little when he saw his father giggle.

"It's just one small tradition of hers, dear. Let it be." at the gentle scold of her husband, Violet fussed a little on her chair, then snorted to show her disapproval.

"And to be frank mama.. I want her to be happy and serene. After all we've been through." he emptied his cup and unfolded his paper. Violet faced again her son.

"You can be Frank, Charles or Roger as far as I'm concerned but I think it's quite odd. She always had breakfast with us." she looked around searching for agreement "It's not the first woman on earth to deliver a baby and she's just in her first month, already throwing tantrums here and there.. what shall she do on the months to come?"

"Mother." Robert took a deep breath before smiling, foretasting his winning "Doctor's orders to fulfil her wills. She's not asking much with having her breakfast in bed." he cut her off. Violet huffed.

"For now." she had to had the last word, even if she'd lost the argument. Of course, the first months were the most dangerous ones and the last thing she wanted was to put at risk her daughter-in-law and unborn grandchild. Yet, she felt her duty was to complain.. at least on something: was she or was she not the grandmother to be?

* * *

"Can I come in?" Robert voice was soft thorough the slim cranny of the open door. Of course he couldn't see his wife if she was still dressing, it was the rule.

"Not yet." he heard the answer. He closed the door again, putting his arms behind his back and waited patiently.

"How was your meal?" he asked, raising a little his voice to chat with her despite the wood between them.

"Very good, thanks." her voice was absent. He paused, then heard a soft thump.

"Are you all right?" he asked concerned, grasping the handle ready to intervene.

"Yes." she was giggling. Robert relaxed. "I dropped the canvas."

"Oh." he'd heard right? "The canvas?" he leaned his ear to the wood, trying to listen to the multiple soft laughs he still could hear. "Darling? What's going on?"

"Just a second."

He sighed.

A couple of minute later, Cora's maid bumped right into him.  
"I beg your pardon, Milord." her wide smile died in an instant. Robert tried to peek into the room in the meantime, of course he wasn't angry with her.

"No need, O'Connor." he stepped forward "May I go in?" the maid blushed a little and nodded.

"Yes, Milord. Milady asked if you could please close your eyes before entering." she bowed a little, then rushed into the corridor and down the stairs.  
Robert shook his head and smiled.  
His wife surprised him with a bunch of things in the last week: she'd got the rocking horse repaired, she'd bought a small white cradle for their room, she even received with her mail several magazines filled with items for babies, strolls, toys, clothes.. Now he could only imagine what he would've found inside that room.

"What have you come up with, this time, uh?" he opened the door with one hand on his own eyes and the other tended before him not to bump into something alien. Soon enough he felt his wife's tiny hand grasp his.

"Do not peek!" oh he loved when Cora was happy. He could see her sweet smile through her words.

"I won't" he replied chuckling. She guided him cross the room and to stop him from walking she pressed he palm on his chest.

"Now. Look." his wife was standing beside a wooden easel and a white square canvas. He was truly speechless.

"..Wonderful!" He was using his fake-happy voice. Cora made a face, crossing her arms on her chest.

"Your mother wants me to do something ladylike. I can't go riding, I can't go swimming and God saves me from going to tea parties all the time.. I'm going to practise needlework, I swear, but.. _ta-da_!" she smiled once again.

Ah! Now he got it.  
"That's a brilliant idea, my darling!" he closed the distance between them and held her tight "I'm going to hang your paintings all around the house." Robert kissed her cheek and a tiny peep escaped her lips.

"Are you sure your ancestors won't mind?" their laughters joint a second later.

"I think we should worry about mama more."

* * *

"Darling it's almost dinner time and it's getting cold. Why don't you come inside?" Robert leaned a blanket on his wife's shoulder, then he sat into the grass beside her, his back on their favourite oak's trunk.  
Cora was sitting upon a small chair in front of her canvas, her hands and face soiled by paint, her fair blue eyes focused and determined. She was beautiful.

"It's almost done, darling." she replied.

Robert stayed still watching her wife painting with delicate hand. He already loved that picture: there was a great green hill, the manor on the back, a magnificent orange and pink sunset, their oak, and now she was carefully drawing two figures under the branches.

"That's us?" he teased, pointing out, almost touching the surface.  
She got angry and hit his hand with the paintbrush, moving her chair so he couldn't see her masterpiece anymore. "Ouch" he whined.

"You can't touch the fresh paint, Robert." she scolded. He chuckled and stood up, kissing her cheek when he realized the paint was over.

" _Voilà_." she said happily. "Yes, that's us and no, you can't touch it yet." she lifted onto her toes and brushed her lips against his. "Will you help me carry it inside?" Robert nodded.

"Of course. You get inside and get ready for dinner, I'll collect all this stuff. I'll leave it in the library to let it dry." Cora smiled in agreement and headed to the manor, clasping her fingers on the blanket so she wouldn't lose it on the way home.

* * *

Robert watched Cora all night. He was fascinated by her sight, he found her more beautiful by the minute.  
He smiled when he noticed her appetite had grown considerably, since the last unpleasant events, while her figure remained fairly thin; Robert observed astonished when she chatted with his father and mother, answering politely to all her question about the baby, nodding gracefully when Violet suggested this or that just to make her feel slightly uncomfortable.  
Cora had learned quickly how to deal with the countess, she was becoming perfect in every way.

"So, when will the baby be born, again?" Violet spoke even before arriving into the boudoir after dinner. Since Robert never left his wife's side, all four of them migrated from the dining room to the next room behind the older Lady Grantham.

She continued asking the same question from days now and Cora has started to wonder what was the reason.

"January, mama." she replied, sitting on the couch near to her husband.

She felt almost jealous at the arriving of Carson with the beverages, serving whisky and other liquors to all the family but her: she was left up to a boring, bitter, herbal tea to help her sleep. She would have asked for a sip from Robert's glass if she wasn't afraid she would cause Violet a heart attack and, of course, if she wasn't aware that it will probably hurt her baby.

"Yes, yes." the Countess muttered between sips "Late or early?"

"Middle or late I suppose." Cora forced herself to swallow that awful swill. "The doctor said so."

"So you finally found love out of blue times." Robert almost chocked, then cleared his throat when a satisfied Violet was giving him the winning look.

"I guess we do." Robert and Cora smiled tenderly at each other. "Well.. we better go to bed." Cora nodded: she was drowsy, she couldn't deny it.

Robert rose first, heading to the library to check on Cora's painting. If it was already dried out, he would have prepared her a surprise and hang it on her room for the first thing in the morning, when she was still sleeping.

He walked silently into the room, brightening his path with his candle and he stepped closer to the painting.

He swallowed.

Nothing of that reminded him of that beautiful masterpiece his wife made that very afternoon.

That painting gave him shivers now.

The beautiful sunset sky was covered harshly with grey paint, the oak by thin brushes of black and one branch reminded him maybe too much of a shapeless hanging rope.. but what upset him most was the two figures that once represented them: he was left alone, and beside him, where there was Cora, he could see a horrid breach on the canvas, like the colour was been scraped away; and another figure had appeared, awfully similar to the one Cora had drawn, on the top of the hill, long curls tossed by the wind, her arms wide open. It was almost like she was going to jump off..

"Robert?" his wife's thin voice made him startle. He hurried to put himself before the painting but he knew from her eyes it was too late.

"Wh-why did you change it? When-" he mumbled: yes, when? She had stayed to his side all the time.

"Robert, what happened to my painting?" her eyes was full of scare as they were full of tear. Robert closed the distance between them and buried her into his arms.

"I'm sorry darling.. I-I don't know-" he cooed, trying to calm her down.

"I do not like it anymore.." she stated to sob. Yes, that painting gave the creeps now.

Still, he couldn't give her a reasonable motivation.

"Don't worry, darling. Tomorrow you'll paint another one just as beautiful.. even more." Cora's eyes were fixed on her figure. Her sight was blurred due to her tears but she could swear her character turned her head, like she was facing her. That woman's face was completely black.  
She let herself fall down, vanishing behind the hill's edge: she had jumped off.

Cora screamed into Robert's shoulder.

He held her close to him, blew on the candles and scooped her in his arms to carry her away from the library.

* * *

Robert rouse in the middle of the night. He'd heard some noises he couldn't recognise.  
He strove to light up a candle and rubbed his eyes to cast away his sleep.

The first thing he checked was his wife: she was sleeping peacefully next to him, showing her back, her breath was calm and steady.

He sighed briefly, then moved the trembling light toward the room.  
Nothing was misplaced from the door, the wardrobe, the settee and the table.. until the window.

The wooden tripod wasn't empty as it should have been.

He swallowed hard, jumping off the bed to step closer. It was the same ruined canvas that he left in the library and, once again, it had been changed.  
This time, a rough splat of black covered it completely, the painting still hitting the carpet in slow drops of dark liquid.

It was just when he turned to Cora that he noticed her sleepy and smiling face soiled in black paint, the sheets ruined and the paintbrush loosen held in her hand tripping on the floor.


	2. Two, Purple

**NdA: Hello, hello :)** thank you so much for follow - and favourited - this story as well, I'm truly touched.

I'd like to give my gratitude to witchoesed, Countess of Cobert, sinciyoufellinlovewithme and Melz96 who took time to review the first chapter. You made my day!

Here's the second update. **I hope you enjoy it!**

I included a small lyrical-cameo in honour of Rose - better, her actress - because.. I love Rose ;)

Please forgive my mistakes, I'm not English, R&R so I can improve my skills!

* * *

 **Two**.

 _'Crack'_. She could've heard that noise. She didn't.  
The thin icy surface on the black stone cracked under her foot.  
In a blink of an eye she could've slip and fall. She held her breath while finding a balance once again.  
She turned her palms to face the black sky, her arms still wide open.  
 _Purple_. Sage flowers, she smelled, and she felt home.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

 **Mid-June 1890**

Cora slowly walked into the library. It was becoming her favourite room in the whole estate for some times now: in the morning, the bright light bated all the shelves and books into a strange halo of mystery and if Robert would've found a little spare time, he would've laid on the couch with her, reading with cooing voice one of her favourite novels; in the afternoons and evenings they spent endless time talking about their future, instead. They had already made plan about the baby's schools, horses, titles and skills, its beauty, inherited from its fairly mother and its pride, inherited from its resolute father.

She smiled silently, leaning her fingers on the top of the couch, her glimmering blue eyes fixed on the back of her husband: few were the times when she saw him sitting before the piano and she didn't want to distract him.

As soon as the light, yet peaking, notes filled the air, Cora involuntary started to swing on her heel and toes, back and fort, again and again. Her heart was almost aching due to the beauty of what she was witnessing: her beloved husband hitting with his raw finger the piano's keys, playing an old, sweet, lullaby.

" _Lavender's green, dilly dilly, lavender's blue.."_ she mimicked with her lips while slowly walking to her Robert. She waited for the right time to place her hands on his shoulders.

Robert startled a little, the melody cracked for a moment.

" _If you love me, dilly dilly, I will love you.._ " Cora sang with a heavenly, delicious voice that made Robert's heart melt at once. Her slim arms crossed on his chest while she leaned over him, resting her chin upon his head.

"You ruined my surprise, Cora Crawley." he teased, rubbing her arms with his warm hands. "I thought I had nine months more to practice." he turned slightly his head and kissed her pale skin.

"I can teach you." she peeped with an enthusiastic voice, unfolding her embrace and taking a seat next to him. "We can play the baby's lullaby together."

Robert smiled while his wife's fingers joint his under Cora's feathery touch and guide.

"It will be perfect, my darling."

* * *

"But Robert you promised me!" she cried with her childish voice. Robert had to show his disappointed face while inside he was giggling for his wife's behaviour.

"I know, my dearest. We can practise tomorrow and I can certainly read you tonight before bed, tough." he tried to kiss her forehead but she stepped back, pouted and crossed her arms on her chest. "I totally forgot about mama's picnic to Eryholmes."

Cora huffed.

"Only if you swear." she warned him. Robert nodded tragically.

"Cross my heart." he said firmly "Beside we can sneak out for an hour and take a little walk on our own.. near the river perhaps." he was using his fake-uncaring voice and she could only imagine what he had in mind. Had he arranged something near the river? If only the temperature would have been little warmer she could've asked Robert if they could just dip their toes into the limpid waters.. "Now don't let your mind travel too much, dear." Cora woke up from her thoughts only when her husband touched her nose with his finger. Cora nodded and sighed.

"I hope you won't fall asleep tonight when you'll read me _Little Women_."

Robert whined loudly "Again?!"

* * *

She had to admit it: that place was incredible. Cora almost liked that house more than Downton Abbey itself. With all those red bricks, the green ivy hanging here and there across the facades and the beautiful trees and flower all over the garden.. if only was allowed, she would have begged Robert to take her to Eryholme every spring.

She enjoyed that sight, that air, that flowers and those trees, she enjoyed even the quiet sound of the rushing waters in distance, with bees and birds singing all over. Of course her mother-in-law didn't agree.

"I forgot about the bees." huffed Violet, waving her gloved hands around her face.

"That's the nature waking up for spring and summer." it wasn't a secret that the older woman found Cora's glee just an unpleasant symptom of her pregnancy and often she gave her in return a sympathy smile. "It's even getting rather warm, don't you think, Robert?"

"I do." he chuckled. He loved witnessing to the quiet fight of those two. "Would you care to join me for a walk?" that what the question she was waiting since the arrival. She jumped off her seat and settled her dress.

"To the river?" she forestalled, swiping her arm beneath his.

"Yes. I'd like to show my favourite spot when I was a child." at those words, Violet fussed on her chair.

"On that rock?!" she mumbled, almost out of breath "Are you out of your mind? You could slide!" Robert sighed.

"Mama, it's not a rock it's a flat stone above the river.. it's totally safe. I promise."he patted his wife's hand "Beside I'm not a fool. I won't risk Cora and my child's life that way, don't you think?" Violet got distracted by another bee.

Robert sighed. "We'll be back soon, papa." Patrick nodded a smiled to the couple before diving again into his book.

* * *

"Robert, I was thinking that maybe we could come here more often." she was the first one who didn't know if that was a request, a question or a proposal and her tone of voice contained all the three possibilities.

"You like it here, don't you?" Robert was smiling while guiding her across the forest he explored palm by palm as a kid. The trees were of course larger and higher and some new trees were born all around, the moss had spread all over, filling the air with that unique essence, but in the substance, nothing had changed. Robert knew the paths by heart.

"I do. Very much." Cora confessed, bowing to cross a fallen trunk and a low branch that Robert tried to lift for her. "I love this forest, that red house.. I love these perfumes and this quiet with birds and insects. It's all so peaceful."

"Do you really hate Downton that much?" asked Robert ironically and she blushed, lowering her eyes

"I do not hate Downton. It's just.. quieter here." she cleared her throat "I'd like to spend some time with just my husband." Robert smiled and took advantage of a difficult ground to kiss her on the cheek.

"You will become Countess, lady Grantham one day, my darling. It'll be easier day by day. You'll be a wonderful mistress of the house." Cora bit her lower lip.

"Do you think so?" she held his arms stronger and jumped off a rock.

"I know so, my dearest." he sighed and glanced proudly around "Here we come."

That place was Heaven.

The placid water of the river ran crystal clear through the ground, weaving around the tree's roots, carrying away colourful leaves and bricks; just below a towering, green, weeping willow, near the curve of the river, there was a great flat stone, which leant over the water.

"Robert, it's beautiful." Cora was almost afraid of invading that little breach of paradise and Robert had to pull her toward his favourite spot. From there they could see the forest of poplars trigger a storm of with pollen, like snow, they could see the lines of the river and the little waterfall in distance, ending in a quite large pool, less than a couple of metres deep.

Robert urged his wife to sit on a prominent root and for a long moment he watched her blue eyes glimmering due to the sun sneaking thorough the tiny leaves.

She was stunning.  
She looked like a fairy into that forest, like she belonged there, into that mystic beauty of quiet and sounds.

"Now I'll show you how to live this spot at full potential." he giggled, kneeling down and starting to unbuckle her boots. Cora didn't complain when he freed her legs from the silk socks either and rose her dress just above her knees.  
The cold stone beneath her feet gave her chills and when he feet met the water, she giggled as a long shiver ran on her back; Robert watched her settle down and did the same, joining her just a couple of minute later.

"I hope our child won't hide for hours in the forest like you did." Cora was flapping her feet back and forth, splashing his legs from time to time.

"Who told you I hid for hours?" he was faking a hurt face expression.

"I imagined it." he simply said, smiling victorious.

"All-right. But if so we'll know where to search." Cora nodded and laughed with him, then she rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying his presence and the stunner of the wood.

"Look Robert!" her finger pointed a little brush on their left he didn't notice. He giggled: those were common sage flowers.

"You like them?" Cora nodded, slipping her head deeper on the crook of his neck. "If you promise not to move I'll pick some for you." she huffed and shook her head, promising with a condescending voice.

* * *

Cora waved her feet once more, her palm resting on the cold stone beside her legs. She sighed and closed her eyes, enjoying that ultimate peace surrounding her, until she felt her hands freezing and wet.  
She quickly opened her lids and rose her palm, glancing blankly at the unexpected stream of water rushing on the stone on which she was sit on.  
Cora urged herself to get up to prevent her dress to get soaked but when she tried to stand, that little stream became a rill and a real river and before she could realize, she slipped and fell into the watercourse.

"Rob-" she almost chocked.

It was June, yet the water was cold as ice.  
Cora fought tenaciously against the strength of the river but every time her feet failed the grip on the pebbled on the bottom, she was dragged a little more toward the waterfall. It was not higher than one metre, yet she couldn't know if sharp rocks or other dangerous things were expecting her just at the end of it.  
She held her breath when the waters dragged her down into the green pool in the middle of the forest.  
She would have laughed.  
That unplanned dive hadn't been bad after all, if it weren't for the chills and the fright and the soaking dress that made her movements very difficult.  
Cora spread her arms, trying to get to the surface for she was running out of air.. but she couldn't.  
Her ears, even under water, were caught by a sinister noise: it was cracking ice.  
 _Ice_? In the middle of June?  
With horror she realized that just above her head the water had turned into a thick layer of frost. She couldn't breath, she couldn't get out.  
She began to punch with all her strength but it seemed no use; she was alone, trapped and dying among cold waters with no one to save her in time.

* * *

Robert kissed his wife on the top of her head before leaving her side, padding barefoot on the ground toward the purple bush. The strong scent of sage tickled his nose and immediately smiled, imagining his wife's face when she would have realized what kind of flower she had laid her eyes on.  
He made a tiny a colourful bouquet and tied up the stems with a long blade of grass; he was about to head back to Cora when he dropped the flowers.  
Messy purple dots spread onto the dark ground.  
He couldn't move, shocked and horrified by the sight before him: Cora on the edge of the stone, her arms spread open, her white dress lightly waved by the wind. What was she doing?

"Cora, don't move!" he began to run to her, but just a second before he could catch her, she stepped forward, jumping into the river without a blink. "Cora!" hundreds of birds fled away.

Robert hearted raced within his chest. Why on earth Cora jumped into the river like that? Why was she walking peacefully into the cold waters, following the flow, escaping every attempt of his to catch her?

Oh the waterfall was so near..

"Cora, I beg of you! Stop!" he jumped a trunk, striving to follow the river without enter the water to keep the both of them from wastefully slide. "Watch out, Cora!" he was a couple of metres far away from her when she let herself fall into the natural pool tailing the waterfall.

Robert ran again, not caring if his heart was bursting, not caring if his lounge were burning. He watched frenetically the bottom of the lake, searching for his wife and there she was: lying on the foot with her eyes open, an enigmatic smile curving her lips and her hands gracefully leant on her stomach.

He didn't think twice before diving in, pulling her out and crying of joy when he heard her choked breath starving with air.

"What have you done, my darling?" his voice was cracked, full of both concern and relief while he carried her out of the water toward the nearest forecourt of dry grass to let her recovering "What have you done?" he asked again, but her glance was only terrified.

"I-I slipped. For the water.. and then the ice-" her eyes began to water.

"Ice?" What was that all about? She was clearly confused. Maybe he had mistaken what he saw. Quizzing her with more question didn't seem the best ting to do at the moment "Don't worry my darling, I have you." he held her strong, sighing content when he realized she was just scared.  
Cora snuggled against his chest, happy for the sunbeams warming their skins. He smelled like sage and when she opened her eyes and her last tears fell down onto her cheeks, she saw lots of those purple flowers.  
They were beautiful despite they were sage's.  
She quite loved that scent.  
Cora felt safe and warm into her husband's embrace.. she was home.


	3. Three, Blue

**NdA: Goodmorning :) happy Cobert monday.. I'm happy beacuse I did my English test and I hope for the best. This adventure here helped me quite a lot! And I have to thank you so much for that!**

I'd like to give my gratitude to witchoesed & Countess of Cobert who reviewed the previous chapter!

Here's the update, a longer one and with a fluffy ending because we all deserve a little fluff. **I hope you enjoy it!**

I have also an annuncement to do: next week I won't update because I will be on a small vacation for a little _terrific fun_ with my beloved one (I hate LDR so much) so **I will see you on the 16th of April.**

And as always, please forgive my mistakes, I'm not English, R&R so I can improve my skills!

* * *

 **Three.**

She smiled though her dark curls, her eyes shut.  
Her left foot leaned on the cold stone once more.  
She would've tremble, she would've fall on her knees, paralysed by terror.  
She was laughing instead.  
 _Blue_. Like her husband's glimmering eyes and she felt happy.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

 **Early July 1890**

"Don't be late for dinner." Martha warned them on the front door. Both Cora and Robert nodded with serious faces.

"We won't mother, don't worry." Cora kissed gently her mother's cheek before sliding her arm into her husband's.

When they got far away enough, they sighed in relief, running toward the beach with a happy smile.

They had been in Newport for almost two weeks now and that was their last day before returning home. Martha had begged to see her daughter with hundreds of letters, now that she was expecting her first grandchild and since Cora herself missed her native home, Robert thought that it was the best time to get a little vacation on the States, after all he hadn't seen his wife's childhood home yet.

Of course the first days everything was beautiful: exploring the land on the saddle of magnificent horses, boat trips, fairs and most of all the walking on the beach with his wife, barefoot into the sand. That was a marvellous feeling now that the weather was hot and dry.

Once Cora even woke him up in the middle of the night and took him swimming when everyone was asleep. He felt like a child again, running and laughing and chatting with his sweet Cora, who seemed to enjoyed that air, so much that her cheeks got a wonderful rosy colour within a couple of days, her lips grew red and her eyes sparkled even more when the sun reflected its beams into the ocean's surface.

She was more beautiful day by day and he couldn't think of anything but happiness.

* * *

Cora roused with a gentle gasp. She needed a few seconds to remember where she was and the reason why she was there; she smiled when she felt her legs trapped by some sort of weight which prevent her from moving in any way: it was Robert, peacefully sleeping with his head in her lap.

She began to stroke his hair absent-mindedly, playing with a hazelnut lock while watching at the blue water of the ocean before her.

It was her favourite view and what she missed most in England. She belonged to the Ocean, she loved the delicate roar of the waves, she loved having her feet dipped into the soft white sand, she loved the pink dawn, the food, the smells and the sounds.

Cora cherished every moment, yet she realized that none of those beautiful things would have been so stunning without Robert beside her. She needed Robert to share those marvellous things, otherwise she would have recognized only half of their real worth.

She sighed loudly, breathing in the Ocean's perfumed breeze, her eyes fixed on the horizon line, where a cobalt blue sky met an emerald green sea, placid waves rippled the flat surface and lazy boats ran across the waters, hiding beyond the coastline's creeks.

She loved that special hue and since she fell in love with Robert, Cora believed her favourite colour, above all others, was indeed blue: the light blue of his eyes, the blue of the flowers he picked for her the very first time they met.

"You're awake.." her husband's voice made her lower her eyes to him. She smiled sweetly and he couldn't help but doing the same. "How long?" he rubbed his eye and sat on the sand.

"Not much." she whispered back. "I was thinking." Robert clapped his hands to get rid of the grains of sands and looked at her blankly.

"About what?" he asked curiously.

"About us. I love this place.. and this vacation." Cora sighed "And this is because I have you." Robert smiled and cupped her cheek with his warm hand.

"So you're not upset about leaving tomorrow?" Cora shook her head.

"Not as I thought." she said truthfully "A bit, I think.. but I like our house. It's my home now."

He stood up and offered his help to get on her feet. When she was up, he held her close, hitting carefully on her dress to shake off the sand. She laughed.

"I'm glad to here that, my darling." he brushed his lips on hers "Beside we can come here whenever you wish." Cora nodded happily, holding onto her husbands arm while heading on the way home.

"You know, darling.. we've got quite some time left." Robert noticed his wife's childish smile and immediately knew she had something in mind.

"What would you like to do, then?" he asked with an amused smile.

"Follow me."

* * *

"Ah! Miss Levinson!" a peculiar old man on his late sixties appeared from behind a wooden crumbling building. His raspy voice made Robert startled: how did he see them coming? What was that straw hat on his head? He smiled amused.

Cora laughed a little, shaking his hand as soon as they met, like they knew from a long time.

"It's Mrs. Crawley now, Ben." she simply said. Robert didn't add anything about her being Countess, lady Grantham and so on, even though he wanted to, but he could see from his wife's behaviour she was quite content that way.

Ben removed his hat and stepped closer to Robert.  
"It's a pleasure, Mr. Crawley." Robert bent his back and shook his hand.

"It's an honour to meet you." he looked at Cora, who seemed to enjoy his complete lack of knowledge and also seemed unwilling to explain why they were there with that rummy guy.

"Care to ride on the beach?" asked Ben, glancing to the both of them "Your favourite horse is still waiting for you!" he winked at Cora and she smiled, nodded sweetly.

"Yes, Ben. Please." the old men smiled back and headed to the building which Robert now identified as a very raw stable.

"A ride, Cora?" Robert was whispering, yet his voice was full of concern and dubiousness.

"Why not, it's our last day." she rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. "It's not dangerous, dear."

"It is." he replied with a flat voice. "I don't think it is the best idea-"

"Trust me, Robert." she cut him off. "I know these horses since I was a girl. It is going to be relaxing. I promise." Robert huffed, shifting his arms around her waist.

He just wanted to protect her, but how could he fight against that face? Well, he would have kept her from any harm, in every way possible.  
"All-right then. Swear you'll be careful." Cora smiled and nodded, kissing him briefly on his lips.

"Cross my heart."

After ten minutes tops, Ben returned to them with two white pinto horses, one for each hand and a bright smile which revealed few teeth missing.

"You remember Marvin, do you?" Robert watched as Cora's face brightened up at the sight of one of the horses: clearly she knew that one and that horse seemed to know her for it pressed calmly its nose into her palm. "Marvin is retired now. But I thought you might like ride him one last time."

"I'd love to." Cora was beaming. Robert smiled back at her and took the other horse's rein after help her to get on the saddle.

He was quite pleased that those American saddles weren't that bad or uncomfortable as they seemed – and to tell the truth, the fact that Cora rode an elderly stallion lowered considerably his worries.

"We'll make a quick walk to the cliff*, Ben. Mother wants us home for dinner." the man chuckled like he'd heard that phrase too many times.

"I'll be here, Miss- er Ma'am." he held his hat with his fingers and briefly nodded.

"Thank you, Ben." Cora gave him one of her sweetest smile while rubbing her horse's neck and taking the lead on the small path.

* * *

Soon enough they reached the Ocean.  
It was almost sunset and the beach was lonely and quiet: it was like they had a piece of paradise just for the two of them.  
The soft noise of the horses hooves upon the sand mixed to the lazy motion of the waves was relaxing, just as the animal's slow movements and the warm gold sun upon their skins. They didn't talk for several minutes.

"I can't decide." the delicate laugh of Cora made him smile. He urged his horse to walk at her side.

"About what, my darling?" he asked curiously, eyes fixed on his wife's elegant face silhouette.

"Between the that cliff and our oak. I can't decide which one is my favourite place in the world." Robert chuckled; then he sighed dramatically.

"Every place is my favourite if I'm with you." Cora turned to him and playfully smacked his arm.

"That's not fair!" she pouted "Beside I was going to say our oak because of our times and because I love you. But now I won't." Robert laughed happily and stared at her when he noticed that she was striving not to burst into laughter herself.

"I love you so." he finally mumbled, his eyes tearing and his cheeks aching.

* * *

"Oh look, Robert!" he followed his wife's fingers with his eyes. He really couldn't see nothing but the salt water, the sand and some grey stones. "That seashell." both of their horses stopped walking.

Robert jumped off and Cora watched him as he went barefoot to where she was pointing.  
She had never seen a seashell on that beach.  
When she was a little girl, she had spent whole afternoons searching for shells but she'd found none. That was her first one and she'd found it with his beloved Robert: a small clam or bay scallop with a singular bluish colour. That was destiny, she knew.

Cora waited patiently his comeback and for a brief moment she turned her eyes to the placid Ocean. It was the moment when a dazzling sunbeam hit the water, hurting her eyes so bad that she went blind for a long moment.

She startled and, apparently, she wasn't the only one: Cora felt her horse fussing under her nervous hands and in the moment she was starting to catch her sight back, she realized it was going to run away in fear; a couple of seconds later it did, at full gallop.

Before she knew, the horse was running toward the cliff and she hadn't been fast enough to catch the reins.  
Cora just gripped on the saddle, knowing that a fall, at that moment, would have been disastrous.

She blinked swiftly, yelling her husband's name as the edge of the cliff became nearer and nearer. She could feel the horse slowing down a bit to face the climb, but it didn't stop, breathing heavily as the fear rose and the fatigue caught its aged body.

She could now glimpse the green Ocean's waters though her spoil sight, several metres under her. Why all of that was happening?

She held her breath and closed her eyes.

* * *

Robert padded happily in the sand, bending down to dig with his fingers and realise that seashell from the sea's claws. He washed it briefly into the waters and rubbed the rough surface with his pads.  
It was really a nice conch and its colour reminded him of his crystal blue wife's eyes with different shades, depending on the weather, the light and her mood. That shell contained all of them: it was beautiful, stunning as much as Cora's eyes.

"Got it, my darling-" when his eyes retuned to her, Robert saw her face getting grave, a quick look at the Ocean behind him and, for an instant, he could swear her beautiful blue ires went completely white.

The next thing he saw was his wife spurring her horse to full gallop toward the cliff.

"Cora!" he yelled, rushing to his horse and jumping on the saddle without a second thought "Cora stop!"

He urged his horse to chase Cora's, praying that sooner or later he would have shorten the distance between them.  
Why was Cora running like that toward the cliff? Why was she deaf to his calls?

"Cora, pull the reins for God's sake!" he cried out, hitting the horse sides with his heels "You're going to kill yourself!" all he could hear in response was her encouraging the stallion to run further.

He glanced at the edge of the cliff, too near for his taste now and begged his horse to run again, faster, faster.  
He held his breath as the two equines stood alongside.  
He clenched onto the saddle's horn and with his right hand tried to catch the other horse's reins. Robert stretched his arm once, twice, all the time he could and just when he was loosing hopes, his fingers clasped around the leather noose.  
He pulled both the reins with a desperate groan.

"What the bloody hell your were thinking?" he yelled out of breath. The horses neighs and their hooves hitting the harsh stone covered partially his voice. "You almost fell off!" he jumped off his horse and stepped near her, extending his arms to help her to do the same.

The sooner she would be off the saddle the better he would have felt.

"The horse got scared, Robert!" she yelled back. He watched her blankly "What did you expect me to do? I called for your help!" Robert just didn't understand: he was sure he saw her urging the horse to run, her continuing running even though he begged her to stop.

"I was right behind you, Cora!" his lips remained parted in surprise. She shook her head.

"I want to go home." she said with an awful flat voice. He thought too that was the best idea.

"I'll take you home, then." he whispered back. "But I swear I was right behind you, Cora. You would have been-" the both looked at the strong waves under them, crushing on some pointed reefs.

She didn't say anything. Maybe he was right. Maybe she was just too scared to think of anything else but her potential fall.

"I-"

"Please, Cora." he glanced at her with watery eyes, holding her firmly when she finally agreed to get off the horse. She seemed upset and suddenly tired, maybe even a little more fuzzy than he liked "I- I wish you to see a doctor just in case. Please." she lowered her eyes and simply nodded.

* * *

He pushed the door with his back, entering his wife's room with a full tray of sandwiches, tea, fruits and a little blue flowers bouquet.

"How are you feeling?" he asked with a gleeful voice, placing the tray in front of her, while she took a seat on her side of the bed. Cora was brightly smiling.

"Robert, that's lovely, thank you." she leant over in his direction, waiting for a kiss and when he gave it to her, she settled down. "Better now. You've eaten?"

Robert shook his head and stole a berry from her plate.

"I'm not that hungry." he sighed and sat on the bed next to her "So, what did the doctor say?" Cora ate a berry herself and look up at him.

"Everything's fine, darling. We just got a fright." Robert stared at her: he should have told the doctor about what he saw given the fact that it was the exact opposite of what Cora believed it had happened. Or maybe he should have told Cora his version..

"I'm glad to hear that, darling." he smiled.

"Tough I rather much prefer our doctor's medical examinations." she chuckled a little, then he noticed her sliding a little under the cover.

"Wh-what do you mean?" he asked, battling between genuinely curiousity and his proverbial rejection toward that kind of stuff.

"Never mind." her cheeks turned red for a moment "I don't what to bore you."

Cora knew she was going to ask for more details and she bit her tongue for speaking too long: the truth was she didn't what to embarrass him with female medical knowledge; of course he was quite content that way and he didn't need to know more.  
When she saw his lips parting, she moved the tray away from her legs and gestured him to come closer. She removed the sheets and looked at him.

"He said-" her cheeks were painted with a delightful deep pink "That our baby is about this big by now." she held up her thumb and index, placing in between them; the two fingers were around five centimetres apart.

He felt his heart doing back-flips within his chest. How sweet the thought of that little thing growing healthy and strong day by day.

Robert glanced at his wife's delicate hand resting on her own stomach – still flat if not for a hardly seeable outgrowth – and he couldn't help but doing the same, brushing her fingers with his.

"I'm so very happy my darling." from his voice she could tell Robert was deeply touched. She smiled back with bright blue eyes, despite the low candlelight in which the room was bathed "Here." he sniffled and reached for one little flower he brought. Cora's eyes widened when she realized which type of flowers they were.

"Forget-me-not?" she whispered. She didn't noticed before.

Those were the first flowers he'd ever picked for her, the very first day the met.

"Yes." he giggled and kissed her nose while shifting closer "I thought you would like something blue. Since we have something old." he tragically pointed at himself, making her chuckle "And something new." they both proudly smiled thinking about their little miracle.

"I shall need something borrowed now." Robert straightened his back; he clearly didn't see that coming. He mumbled dumbly for a few seconds, then he grinned.

"Do you think a kiss will do?" she softly bit her lower lips, then nodded.

"That will do." she whispered back, her arms embracing his neck.

She couldn't think of anything else: her husband's handsome face, his pride and his emotion, but most of all his marvellous, happy, blue eyes smiling back at her.  
That was the moment she decided to cherish forever in her heart.  
Blue was definitely her favourite colour.

* * *

* yes, let's pretend there is a cliff in Newport, I need it XD

 _ **So there it is, see you in two weeks!**_


	4. Four, Green

**NdA: We're baaack! Hello everyone I missed you :) as always, big thanks to** w **itchoesed , Breesecretdaught, eyeon & Countess of Cobert for their reviews!**

 **Apperantly I've got (as many others) a "new reviews" issue, meaning that I can't see them and I can't thus answer them (I read them anyway in my mail so keep sending them!). I hope fix this problem soon.**

Anyway, this is the new chapter, all for you, hope you like it!

I'm not a native, so forgive my mistakes! Please Enjoy!

* * *

 **Four.**

Her chest was heavy.  
She parted her lips, drew a deep breath but it was useless.  
A lonely tear rolled down her ivory skin, while a distant caw filled her ears.  
Her foot moved firmly ahead and something dried out crumbled under her sole.  
Beyond her lids, thousands of leafs were rustling through the wind.  
 _Green_. She couldn't have felt more safe.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

 **Late August 1890**

Violet Crawley was standing in front of the window, a terribly sad expression curling her face. Her long fingers were running on the petals of one of the flowers vase, down to the stems, then she huffed.

"What's the matter mama?" Robert rose his eyes from his works when he heard that familiar sound: his mother was disappointed by something.

"She did it again!" she snorted. Her voice was deeply suffering.

"She _who_.. and did _what_ , mama?" Robert of course knew already the answer to the first question, but he thought that he would be better show himself ignorant on the whole matter.

"Your wife." she hissed. Violet avoided adding the reference to her horrific origins.. she was the victim and she didn't wish to end up on the wrong side.

"What the poor thing did to you this time, mama?" he stored his pen and faced his mother, ready to witness her newest complain.

"Isn't that obvious?" Violet rose her arms pointing at the vase, glancing now the flowers, now her son.

Robert really strived to understand what on earth could be wrong with those splendid white roses, but he just couldn't do it; Violet of course knew even before he did.

"The leaves." her index was turned toward the highest rose of the group "And some blossoms. Here." she waved her hand, looking away like that sight was hurting her very heart.

"Ah." Robert tried so hard not to laugh at her. "I suppose they're missing."

"You suppose right." Violet sat down on the red couch of the library.

"If you allow us to take a walk from time to time.." he paused and smiled "I assure you, your flowers would be more safe." the woman shrugged her shoulder. Maybe he was right, but she was not going to admit it for sure.

"Well-" her light blue eyes flew around the room "It wouldn't be appropriate." Robert couldn't argue with that ans she knew it. "Not now."

"You want me to take her indoor for the next five months?" Violet didn't say a word, yet by her look that the answer she wanted to give him was 'yes'.

Robert sighed speechless.

"You know what, mama?" his determined look scared his mother. She didn't know what to expect, if not one of his challenge of rebellion – of course, since he'd married that modern girl he had peculiar ideas. "I'm going to ask my wife if she'd like to join me on a very long walk after lunch." How scandalous! A pregnant woman – even if not so much notable – gambling around in public, with her husband, during her afternoon.. and God knew what they could do in the meantime: she often caught them kissing when they thought no one was watching or the tiny caresses whenever possible, not to mention the hands holding all the time.

"I.. I forbi-"

"Good. It's settled then." he stood up, pretending not to have heard his mother's stammering. "Cora will be very, very happy."

"No doubts in that." she muttered between teeth.

* * *

"Robert it's beautiful." his wife's crystal voice was all he needed.  
In an instant all the doubts and fears of having her outdoor faded away.

After all it was late August and she deserved some cool air, the smell of fresh-cut grass, the tireless chirping, the warm sunbeams on her skin.. he couldn't deny that when her cheeks turned slightly red due to the sun, despite her hats, she became even cuter than usual.

Her light cream dress emphasized her sparkling blue eyes, hungry for colours and for the fairness that were all around them, starting from the oaks' forest and ending with the sight of the manor in its totality, noticeable from behind one soft and yellow hill.

Robert's eyes often wandered on his wife's delicate figure, especially now that her dresses were significantly different to play along with her new, changing, state.  
She was more beautiful than ever.

"You are, my darling." pink tinged her cheeks and he smiled "Are you tired?"

Cora shook her head with a laugh. He kept asking that question since they left the manor, every ten minutes or so.

"I never go out." she breathed in the scent of pollen "I shall rest tomorrow." she opened her eyes when she was still looking up through their favourite oak's branches.

"I assume you'd like to stop here." Cora nodded enthusiastically while he placed a red squared blanket between the big roots and another on her legs as soon as she took a seat next to him, scrupulously under his supervision and with his careful help.

"Oh Robert is that really necessary?" she begged with a loosen voice "It's so hot." she added, hoping that he could understand the fact she was wearing too many layers of clothes and it was summer and she certainly could not take her upper cloth off like he was doing with his own jacket.

"I know darling, I'm sorry. But the wind it quite strong today and I won't risk it." he kissed her cheek and she sighed with a smile.

Cora found this strongly caring Robert absolutely sweet and adorable, despite what his mama thought, she believed his concern and his constant attentions were far better than the cold detachment he should have shown according to what it was suitable, especially for people like them.

She leant down with her back on his chest, smelling his cologne scent, enjoying his lazy circles on her somewhat rounded abdomen with his typical warm hands.

"Do you ever wish you were a bird?" Robert lowered his eyes into his wife's.

"That's a strange question." he was beaming "Why so?"

"I was wondering. Flying and singing and chasing all the time." she sighed and followed a flock of swallows of passage. "And living on our tree." she chuckled.

"Oh I see." he did the same and then, suddenly, swept her in his arms and stood up without a hitch. "You'd like to live in a tree." it was just enough raising a little more his arms to place his wife on the lowest branch.

Cora suddenly found herself sitting less than a couple of metres off the ground; she held on to the trunk and laughed.

"Now you must sing for me." he proclaimed with a foxy voice, rubbing her leg both to cherish his Cora and to make sure she wouldn't lose balance.

"Must I?" she shook playfully her head "I won't." she turned her head up not to meet his eyes, but when she open them, her face went grave.

"What's that?" Robert's voice was concerned and he strived to look himself to the same direction.

"There's a nest." her right hand flew on her heart "I think the babies have fell out."

Robert asked himself if he wasn't blind: he just couldn't see any birds out of the nest (that he could see) and neither he heard chirping.

"I don't-"

"Please Robert." he sighed loudly and took off his shoes with no grace at all before rolling up his sleeves and climb on the branch next to her. "Be careful." she warned. Robert nodded.

"If I die you'll write on my gravestone that my cause of death were stinky birds and a too-good-looking wife to deny her a thing." Cora began to laugh when she realized he quite mastered the art of climbing and he was approaching at the nest rather quickly.

"I shall write baby birds. It's more worthy." she heard him give her a loud, fake, laugh, but his voice was soon replaced by a soft _chirp_.

Cora's deep blue eyes strived to learn what was the origin of that delicate yet desperate sound and after less than a minute she saw a tiny bird hopping inside a web of leaves and sticks; that poor thing was clearly too young to be outside of the nest, with his bare pink skin and its big orange beak.

"Robert?" she held her hat with her free hand while looking up to her husband, busy collecting other birds and placing them in their nest. "There's one here." he couldn't hear her.

Cora sighed, keeping track of the little bird's movement for it was going far too near the edge of the branch. She knew that it could fall off any time and no doubt it couldn't fly.  
She couldn't wait more.

Prudently as she had never been in her own life, Cora stood up. That bird was on the next branch, a little over her head; a step and a very small climb and she'd be there.  
Robert for sure would have scold her and locked in her room for the rest of her life.. still, how could she stay there and doing nothing?

She took a breath, grasping to the trunk with all her strength, raising her leg to ease her climb upon the branch.  
It was easy as a pie.  
She was a little higher than before, but still not dangerously high, also she could have slipped on her previous position before Robert could have noticed: it was a matter of seconds.

Cora smiled when the bird's chirping became louder and carefully found balance to sit and slide on the wooden tree limb without any other support – after all its diameter was about thirty centimetres, her so-called fear was just a state of mind due to the distance from the ground.

"Come here, birdie." she cooed with a jolly voice, approaching slowly; she was in the middle of the branch now, her hand ached a little, but she was determined to reach that fowl and save it. She was almost there.  
She stretched out her arm, bent her back, almost touching the cortex with her chest.

 _Crack_.

Cora grasped the branch with both of her arms, shutting her eyes while an awful, sinister noise that had made her chill to the bone. She tried to back off, she fixed her blue eyes to that poor thing she couldn't save.. but she remained speechless: that little pink, bare, lame, hopping bird was chirping loudly, carbon black and olive feathers growing fast before her, covering its small body with a polish plumage.  
The bird looked right in her eyes with its small brown ones.

It chirped once again, then flew away.

The branch trembled.

Cora knew she was going to fall.

* * *

Robert closed his eyes when a bird screamed so loud that made his ear ring. It was the third or the fourth baby he'd saved, placing them carefully into their nest.. how could they now be scattered all over the tree was a real mystery, since they seemed to have the only ability of hopping clumsily here and there.

"Almost done." he informed happily, looking down to meet his wife's smiling face.. or so he hoped to. The branch on which he left Cora was empty.  
Robert panicked.

"Cora?" he jumped down on the branch below, urging his eyes to plumb every inch of the tree, searching for the light cream dress of his wife's.

He continued to climb down the tree and eventually he saw her, slowly walking on a slim twig like it was large and strong, yet it was barely able enough to support her weight. Cora however seemed not to care much, walking steady and balanced toward the end of the branch; it swung violently at every steps of hers and she didn't seem to care either.

"Cora!" it was like going through that river and lake case during their trip in June again, or that cliff case in Newport in July.

Why did she behave like that, with no particular reason, all of a sudden, when he didn't pay enough attention?

By now, he knew that calling for her, or yelling, or screaming, or begging her to stop was completely useless, he knew that she was deaf, like she was dreaming and walking though a parallel world in which he didn't have any access.  
The only thing Robert could've done was take action; and so he did.

Robert was fully aware of the danger he may cause reaching Cora on the same branch. He certainly didn't want to break anything due to his additional weight, so his only chance was to prevent his wife to fall off.  
He began to climb down as fast as he could, branch after branch, regardless of the danger, of the scratches, of his heart pumping in his chest both for anxiety and fatigue.  
He jumped off the tree and rolled on the ground, tripping on his own feet while striving to get straight up.  
Robert was short of breath but it didn't prevent him from running for the length of the second tree's limb, the one on which was Cora, until the very end of it; he was panting, looking up, following his wife's steps, his arms slightly open to catch her any time.

The awful noise of breaking woods stinging into his ears.  
He started to mentally count her steps, praying for the branch not to fall just yet.

On one hand he wanted her off from that swinging thing as soon as possible, he wanted her safely on the ground, in his arms.. and on the other hand he hoped that she wouldn't jump off just like that, maybe in a way that it was impossible for him to catch her.

But she did.

Robert held his breath, cupping her tiny body perfectly, preventing her to hit disastrously the hard ground.

Cora blinked with no expression, clenching her husband's neck with strong yet trembling arms.

A storm of green leafs fell down upon them; they were both surrounded by a special blanket with the beautiful colours of summer nature, protecting and dyeing their embraced bodies.

* * *

"I will never leave you alone again, not for one second." he stated, pressing his cheek on hers with closed eyes. "Something is happening to you, my darling." he was whispering, yet his voice was firm. He just wanted to support her, like he did months ago, like he promised to do every single day.. he would have.  
Three mysterious episodes like those couldn't have been coincidences.  
It had come the time to talk to her, to explain all the things he saw with his eyes, so different from what she thought was the reality.

"Will it ever be over, Robert?" her voice was cracked by tears. She wasn't crying, not yet.. but soon. "Do you think..?" Robert held her closer to stop her from talking more. He'd thought of the shadow, the _game_.. yet the strange events happened outside the manor also and that board was gone. It couldn't be the same danger, it was just impossible.

"Are we cursed, Robert?" the small voice of Cora rose once again, brushing painfully his ears. Yes, that was what he thought too, now.. but how could he tell her?

"Of course not, my darling. We're being tested." he kissed her forehead "Whatever it is, we'll get through it together." he sighed softly.

Oh, how much he wished to have an answer, how much he wished to reassure his wife without lying about his deepest fears.. truth was that he didn't know what to do, except for trying to keep Cora from harm, keep her safe and sound, free her from that horrible fate.

Yet he didn't know what to do.

He simply didn't know.


	5. Five, Gold

**NdA: Goodmorning :) happy Cobert monday.. Tomorrow I'm going to have an exam and I'm so scared :( wish me luck!**

I'd like to give my gratitude to witchoesed, Countess of Cobert & my lovely Downtonix who reviewed the chapter!

This one is a little different from the other but I hope you'll like it anyway; a lot of fluff, some hints of terrific fun and, of course, some mystery.  
I'm working on a little video-promo for this story, I'll keep you updated!

And as always, please forgive my mistakes, I'm not English, R&R so I can improve my skills!

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Five.**  
Her body was warm.  
A strange fire was born inside of her.  
It quickly spread in all her body, until the very end of her fingers.  
Her tongue moistened briefly her lower lips, a lonely shiver running across her neck.  
She tilted her head toward the dark sky.  
 _Gold_. Stars were at both sides of her lids; she smiled when she heard a soft melody of words and tales.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

 **Mid-September 1890**

She rolled to her side, resting her head over her husband's shoulder.  
Her right hand was lazily playing with some chest hair while her eyes were closed, her breath slightly short.  
He laid a kiss through her hair, smiling on the vanilla scent between her dark locks.

"You are so, _so_ beautiful, my darling."

Cora smiled content, pressing a first kiss over his neck, and a second one down to his collar bone.

"I love you very much." she answered, nestling tightly to his side, slipping her leg over his "And you're quite handsome yourself." she giggled.

As she did so, Robert's hand fell on the small of her back, keeping her body close to him, enjoying the marvellous sensation of her bare skin against his. During the last period, he found heart-warming feeling her tight belly pressing on his hip, like every night, as they fell asleep.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked, slightly concerned, feeling the chills running through her back; as a matter of fact, he didn't want to put on any clothes, he didn't want _her_ to put any clothes.. as long as she wasn't cold, of course.

"I am, when you're holding me." Cora snuggled up even more. Robert sighed in relief, caressing every inch of her skin that it was accessible to him in that position, he reached for her hand and drew it to his lips, dearly kissing her palm.

"I'll do it forever." her fingers cherished his cheek.

Cora stretched her back, leaning her bare chest on his to kiss him, tenderly yet passionately, as long as their breaths allowed it.

It only took a moment before he made her roll to her back, covering her pale body with his own, his weight on his right elbow, careful not to crush on her.  
Robert's lips traced harmonious and invisible paths on her neck down to her breasts, collecting shivering and soft moans that boosted his love and passion for his perfect wife.

Cora's fingernails was brushing against his back, her lids gracefully closed; she could feel the heat of his kisses, she could sense the fire spreading inside her body, she could hear their hearts beat as one and she could see.. several images before her eyes. She'd always seen things while she was with her husband, mostly her husband himself, his light blue eyes, his delicious lips, his warm hands, she often combined those blissful sensation with the sight of places they saw together, happy memories that could increase their passion.

Now she couldn't help herself from thinking about a fire, a strange crackling fire melting a large yellow candle. It was so strange, so unusual, so mind-altering she soon found herself quite over the edge without even realizing it.  
All of her thoughts went black when his mouth pressed on hers, kissing her deeply. Her fingers ran through his scalp, regaining herself, digging into her husband's loving and protecting arms.

Robert felt something was out-of-line, having his wife so panting and so dissolute after only few kisses, but he didn't dare to ask her why.  
He continued his caressing, his kissing over her chilling skin, he made his way until one of her sensitive spot, on which he dwelled, teasing her, right where her bump had started to grow, weeks ago.

Yet, they both froze when a fluttery sensation caught them by total surprise.

"You got hiccups?" Cora stared blankly at him, laughing right after for that wacky question.

"No, you silly man." Robert smiled dumb as soon as he realized what he'd just witnessed. Their baby's first movements!

He pressed his lips on her still-flickery skin, returning to her side to cuddle with her under the sheets, her hand tracing small circles on her belly. That was the end of their passionate night, for the moment, but they didn't mind at all, none of them. They gladly preferred enjoying that priceless and unique moment, just the both of them, during a simple ordinary night that had become special in a very unexpected way.

They shared a small kiss, sweet and fair, before the lonely crème wax candle, on the bedside table, went out with a slim stream of white smoke.

* * *

It was late at night, when she woke up.  
Cora felt rather cold now that her temperature got lower, and the warmth of her husband, sleeping peacefully beside her, wasn't enough anymore.

She drowsy stood up, rubbing her eyes, shivering when her feet met the carpet and quickly shoved her body into her dressing gown; first, she walked slowly toward the mantel, then at the double when she realized that the fire was dying: only few embers remained glowing into the dark as black ashes smothered their precarious lives.

She knelt, sitting on her heels, and attempted to reach for the pointing iron she often saw into the servant's hands to lighten the fire up. It was September, yet the room was cold and blue like it was December, full winter, or at least she felt so.  
Cora strived to poke the remaining logs in the right way, blowing every now and then and when she felt that the gold and yellow dots were becoming too small for her taste.  
She sighed resentful, turning her head to the bed, where Robert rested, wondering if waking him up was the right thing to do or if she, at some point, could have succeeded on her own. Yet time wasn't on her side.

"Robert." she whispered firmly. He hummed and turned himself away. "Robert." she continued, a little louder this time "Robert!" still nothing. She was getting frustrated and, unwillingly, she hit the wrought-iron grid with the tool, causing a light spark that fell into the mantel.

Cora did not expect at all what was coming next.

That little, golden, innocuous, twinkle had burst into a proper fire.

She was too tired to react in time and she let the strong, unexpected, light to blind her eyes, the burning heat to brush her face and the dancing flames to touch her arm's pale skin.  
Cora jumped up a little too late, a loud moan of pain escaped her lips while the crackling fire blazed on the black wood, powerful and bright. Her eyes could not stop staring at it.

In the meanwhile Robert woke up. His wife's scream of hurt in his ears, his light blue eyes fussing around the room and his sleepy mind trying to understand the happenings.

"Cora?" he immediately got off the bed, reaching for his wife, placing his had on the small of her back, holding her close in case she might need support. He didn't see why the fireplace tool was laying on the carpet, black ashes all over, and a quite big fire burning noisily into their mantel, but, most of all, he didn't see why Cora'd needed to liven it up, when he'd checked on it himself before going to bed, and why on earth his wife was hurt. "What happened?" he asked, shaking her a little to urge her to speak.

Cora blinked several times before turning her dizzy eyes to his.

"I-I'm sorry Robert, I didn't meat to wake you up.. I-" Cora rose a little her right arm, yet unable to let it go with the other hand, pressed firmly on her skin "It caught me off guard." a hint of fake laugh escaped her mouth.

Robert lowered his concerned gaze to her arm, scolding her with one glance.

"Next time, wake me up, darling." a tiny smile curled his lips. Cora nodded. "Here, now.." he pulled her to the settee, recommending not to move while he was heading to his washroom, in which he always kept some items for emergencies – few bandages and iodine.

He returned to her with a trembling candle and all the necessary to medicate her in balance on his other hand, a tender expression on his face, willing to comfort and protect her from all harms.  
Oh how much he wanted to keep her safe, like a bird in its nest..

Robert knelt beside her, trying to convince her to show him her offended arm. Cora however seemed so reluctant, as she just found the perfect position to reduce her discomfort, hand pressed on the wound.

"Please, darling, let me help you." he cooed, kissing her forehead as he said so. She sighed, a little curious herself to see the damage she caused, and eventually she rose her fingers.

At the weak light of the candle, a bruise red burn appeared on her normally pearly skin, and it had the strangest and unusual shape: a thick, flawed ring laid in the middle of her forearm, with a distinct dot in its centre.

They both stared blankly at it for several moments, before Robert took the initiative and spilled some iodine on it, making Cora jolt in distress.

"Sorry, sweetheart." he murmured, hurrying himself in order to wrap her wounded arm with the bandages. As soon as he finished, he could sense the relief in his wife. Relief that was only confined to the pain, because there was so much he'd love to ask still: what caused that odd shape? They had nothing in that room that could've possibly being the origin of that. How could've she provided herself that wound? It was an accident?

* * *

"Hush, hush." his lips caressed the white bandages so softly she almost didn't felt it. He was always so kind, so lovely, that just the thought made her heart ached with joy and affection. Cora moved on the settee, pushing herself on one side, making enough room for her husband to take seat next to her.

Robert didn't hesitated; he shifted to her side, waiting for her to settle in their favourite position as he held his wife with his arms, almost burying her into his warm embrace, as she loved.

Cora leant back, pressing her forehead to his neck so she could smell his scent of cologne and tobacco, then she closed her eyes, letting the silence to lull her, rocked to sleep by the placid rise and fall of her husband's chest and the reassuring sound of his soft breath.  
She didn't even realized that her fingers were playing lazily with her own wedding ring, twisting the golden metal around her neat finger.

"Are you happy, my darling?" his silky voice caressed her ear. She smiled in the amber firelight, not sure he could've seen her.

"Very happy." she answered, slipping her fingers into his, slowly driving their conjoined hands to rest on her stomach.

"I know." his voice betrayed an utterly satisfied smile. Cora tilted up her head to silently question him ' _how_ '. "You always play with it when you're completely happy."

"Do I?" she was surprised: she, herself, had never noticed that.

Robert nodded, feathery wiping his index on her ring, gazing for undefined moments as the yellows flames reflected on the golden surface, making it more glimmering and stunning, just like its owner. He smiled.

"Let me tell you a story." he gently kissed her earlobe and she chuckled. Robert was just concerned about letting her pain fade away, he wanted to cuddle her to sleep, he was determined to take care of her in every way possible.  
Concerning that odd wound, he'd thought about it in the day, for now his thoughts were all for his Cora and for her only.

Robert strived to remember some nice stories his nanny used to tell him but none of them seemed to fit. He sighed, curling his furry eyebrows, until his eyes leant on the window.  
The perfection of the night struck him, leaving him almost undone: a black, infinite pall was covering the sky with no less infinite stars to decorate it and there it was, a pattern, Orion's belt, the three yellow, bright stars triumphantly making their appearance. Oh he knew now.  
He could have told her millions of tales about his favourite's subject: the Ancient Egypt. Maybe he could have boasted a little, showing her the three stars and telling her the theories associated with the three pyramids.. but he didn't want to _bore_ her to sleep. Maybe something about Isis, his favourite goddess of maternity, fertility and magic but it also could have been boring for her. Maybe something romantic. It sure must have been something romantic to tell..

"Darling, are you asleep?" her gentle voice dragged him back to reality. She was giggling.

"No." he chuckled "I was thinking about a nice tale to tell you."

"Did you find it?" she asked. Robert sighed again, he still had no clue.. until his eyes fell back on their hands, on her finger, on her gold ring. That was it.

"Do you know why the wedding ring is to be brought on this finger?" both their gazed were focused on the metallic item. Cora shook her head. "*Well- there was once a man, now lost in history, who was fascinated by the human body, by the medicine and by the transience and mutability of emotions, of love in particular, which could not be explained with the reason and studies like all the other things of life. He was strictly convinced he could have never fell in love, because he thought that his mind was stronger and he would have never being affected by any spell of the sort." Cora loved listening to his tales, his voice so soft and melodious, able to made her mind fly away, creating all the images _he_ wanted. It was beautiful.

"But he fell in love?" she questioned hopefully. Robert nodded, little hesitant.

"He did. But.. just right before their wedding, a wizard, since forever in love with his bride, made a spell, turning her into a gold ring." he told that part quickly and blankly. Cora gulped, exactly as he thought she would.

"How awful!" she looked back at him, shocked. "Why did you-"

"I know it's sad.. but it is also very romantic- hear me out." she diligently obeyed, nestling closer to him, a little pout curving her lips "The man had no idea on how reverse the spell, but he was determined to find a solution. In the meanwhile, he wore the ring on his left finger, everyday." he paused "You know why?" Cora was listening, thus she pretended she was not to show him her disappointment, and she shook briefly her head "Because he'd studied the human body so well, he knew that there, was a tiny, long vein, very tiny.." his index brushed against her finger, making its way up to her hand and arm; her skin chilled "that runs directly up.. up.. until the heart." the back of his hand was caressing her chest, right where he could feel a gentle beat. "So he could have kept her near his own heart forever."

"It's still a little sad." she muttered. Robert kissed her temple.

"It was just the origin, sweetheart. And I'm sure he eventually turned her back to her human form. He was a clever fella." he smiled and gave her a playful, little, squeeze "Just think that there is something on your finger that is connected to your heart, all the time." he cuddled her for a short moment "Something so gold, so precious, so beautiful as my lovely wife. I will be always here with you." he whispered in her ear. He held his hand, drove it to his lips and kissed it devotedly.

"You've saved yourself by a nose." she murmured, striving to keep a straight face while she wanted to smile to him so much.

"What a blessing." he laughed a little, mouth now pressed on her perfumed locks. "Now what about a long sleep?" he hardly suppressed a yawn.

Cora turned to her side, nestling on his chest like she always did: it was her way to tell him not to bother returning into their bed.

"I love you." his voice was already dazed.

"I love you too." she answered back, a big smile on her lips as her eyes fell heavy under the sight of bright and yellow stars, the golden flames into the mantel slowly going out once again.

* * *

*I made the story up, but the tiny vein connecting the ring finger and the heart it's true and it is believed that the owners of this discovery are indeed the ancient Egyptians. I learnt this 'legend' thanks to a Latin exercise of few years ago. I still remember it dearly: I'm a hopeless romantic.

 _Want to find out what the sign is about? Try & guess. See you next week!_


	6. Six, Brown

**NdA: Goodmorning :) happy Cobert monday to all of you!  
I just finished writing this story but don't worry: I'm planning the sequel of the sequel XD **

I'd like to give my deep gratitude to witchoesed & Countess of Cobert who reviewed the previous chapter!

Check out my tumblr blog on wednesday, there might be a surprise :)

I'm note a native so please forgive my mistakes, R&R so I can improve my skills!

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Six.**  
Her skin burned. Thin dark rips adorning her arms.  
She almost lost balance once again, her legs locked, her feet linked to the ground, the air into her lungs striving to find its way.  
Sharp stings cut her from the inside of her chest.  
She choked painfully to reach for some yearning breaths.  
 _Brown_. Her fingers flew to her neck. Her eyes ardent with pain. She was trapped.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

 **Late October 1890**

"We could walk together back to the house later..?" Robert's heart ached a little to the prospective of giving a negative answer to his sweet wife.  
She was so beautiful and yearning for some time alone, only the two of them, and he couldn't give it to her, not just yet.

"Darling it's almost launch time and you shouldn't skip meals." he kindly reminded her. He kissed on her cheek and nodded to the coachman who had escorted them until the hospital "Mr. Reid will take you home. How about we walk together after tea? Just you and me."

Cora weighted up his proposal and at the end she accept it.  
"All-right, my dear. I'll wait for you." she smiled at him. Sweet, delicious smile he adored from the core of his heart.

He watched her leaving at the arm of the carriage driver. He trusted him, otherwise Robert wouldn't have never put his precious wife in his hands.  
He sighed, folding his jacket around his arm and he headed back in the room which hosted the couple few minutes ago.

Robert opened shyly the dark wooden door, peeking like a child into the room in search of the doctor.  
"Dr. Clarkson?" the doctor – a little older then him, not more than a decade – rose his head from the papers on which he was writing and showed him the seat before him, at the other side of his desk.

"Please, Lord Grantham." he was smiling.  
That was a good sign, right? After all, before suggesting Cora to go back to the Abbey and him to stay a little longer to discuss about the hospital, he did reassured them both, saying it was all going fine.

"So, what would you like to discuss about? If you need more subsidies I'm sure-" the doctor rose his hand, shaking it a little to urge him to stop talking.

"It's not the hospital I'd like to discuss about." he sighed, now his face was rather concerned "Actually the hospital is going quite well and-" he stopped himself when he noticed that it wasn't what his guest wanted to know. "I'd like to talk about her Ladyship."

"I'm all ears." Robert sat on the edge of his seat.

"Oh, trust me, milord, there's nothing wrong with her physical health. As a matter of fact she's very well for her condition and she doesn't suffer much the negative aspects of a pregnancy and.. and the burnt is healing well too."

" _But_?" Robert urged him to speak further. He was sure that there was an unpleasant part he was going to learn any moment. Of course, knowing that Cora was good and the baby too, was a relief.

"But- that wound's shape and.. and your reports made me think." Robert watched him carefully while the doctor searched through piles and piles of papers.

"Think about _what_?" all that waiting, not knowing, was making him nervous.

"I would like to be sure. Yet it is an unusual situation and I firmly believe that it is important for her Ladyship to be treated properly, especially now, in her conditions." he could see that the young doctor before him was hesitant, concerned and also strong willed to help. He liked to dramatize things, though, and Robert couldn't decided whether it was a good or a bad aspect of his personality.

"Please, explain." Robert needed some precise information and dr. Clarkson seemed to agree, at least to organized his ideas more correctly.

"Let's start from the beginning." he opened a leather folder and kept track with his finger "Her Ladyship's expecting since from between April and May, correct?"

Robert nodded.  
"Yes, you first came after- after that unpleasant matter." he shook his head to banish the images of that tremendous adventure from his mind.

"I do recall." the doctor stated "And her Ladyship was really tired back then, nervous." Robert nodded again. "Then, in May, you said that there was curious turning of events that made you, milord, quite disquieted."

"Yes. The painting." he'd told him about her happiness of finding a new hobby, her beautiful picture and then he'd told him about the black paint all over it, the characters' movements, the upsetting new aspect of the whole thing and them, of course, he'd told him about the night, the paintbrush in her hand, the black paint all over the carpet and her peaceful smile.

"And the next month, the river."

"Yes, she walked into the water.. so happily. Like that time when we were at her parent's house, in America, and she ran with her horse toward the cliff.. or two months ago when she walked on that tiny branch without the fear of falling on the ground. She could have caused a real damage.." Robert felt his heart in his throat while telling him all that, like he was living once again all those situations.

"And few weeks ago the burnt." Dr. Clarkson's voice was flat as always.

"Yes. But it was an accident." when his light eyes met his, Robert held his breath.

"Are you sure, milord?" it looked like a rhetorical question. "You told me you woke up.. so I suppose you were sleeping." Robert stood still "I suppose also that you were.. let's say.. _distracted_ when all the other episodes occurred."

"I suppose we do can say that.. but-"

"I believe her Ladyship doesn't know what she's doing when she's having these moments." the doctor got lost in his mind for a long period: things were crystal clear, it had to be _that_. Otherwise, he couldn't explain her utter joy and, a moment later, her carefree suicidal attempts. She'd tried three times.. it couldn't be ignored. Robert stood with his lips slightly parted. "I believe her Ladyship is suffering from a strange pathology known as cyclothymic* disorder.."

Robert knew so little about that disease, well he knew nothing. But only the thought of his wife suffering from something was unbearable.  
"Is it- how?" he hear his own voice cracking. Dr. Clarkson curled his lips into a tiny smile.

"It is serious, milord. But it is a.. light form of it. It's sporadic and it's due to the massive stress she's been through.. she still is."

Robert found hard even breathing.  
"So do you believe she'll heal eventually?" his nodding eased his pain.

"I think the pregnancy is keeping her to heal completely in a short time but she will, milord. I'm very optimistic on the subject."

"In the meanwhile?"

"In the meanwhile.. just keep an eye on her Ladyship. It is very important not to leave her alone. That is why I wanted to talk with you, milord. It is important to keep her from harm, to take good care of her but without making her feel discomfort or any pressure. The last things she needs now is more stress or worries."

* * *

"Can I bring you anything, milady?" Cora rose slowly her blue, glimmering, eyes and the newly promoted butler, mr. Carson, who had to strive not to melt at once before the sweet and bright smile of his mistress.

"No, thank you, Carson." she answered in a soft voice, knowing his impatience to rush into the dining room, supervising the table and getting all ready for the incoming mid-day meal.  
Of course her presence in the small library had to stand in the way of his duties, not to count the objectionable choice of her to stay there in her condition. Yet she didn't feel at all like staying in her room all day and travel like a ghost to take her food at precise hours, more as if she was a prisoner in her own house.  
On that, she was determined not to let Violet Crawley win.

"I shall go checking on the dining room, then." he used his deep, solemn voice and he bowed a little, waiting for his lady's permission.  
When Cora nodded, gifting him with an another smile, he exited content from the room, leaving her alone in silence by the light of the sun through the big windows.

"Well," she sighed "It seems it's just only you and me, Nefertiti." hearing her name, the vanilla dog lifted her head, glancing Cora with gentle brown eyes. "Why don't you keep me company?" just as she patted her hand on her thigh, the dog trotted gleefully to her, sitting gracefully with her nose on her knees, enjoying Cora's caresses with closed eyes and open mouth.

She petted the dog for a couple of minutes, then she pointed the empty space next to her, on the couch.  
"I won't rat you out, I promise." the dog whined softly as she was conflicted.

They both knew that Nefertiti wasn't allowed to sleep or sit on the furnitures, that was why there was a kennel next to the bureau, but somehow breaking that rule was extremely catchy: they were alone, the dog had always yearned to try those cushions for a nap and Cora would have find it way more comfortable petting her rather then bending down on her rounded belly.

First, Nefertiti tested the waters with her paws, placing them on the sitting cushion, then, looking at Cora, asking for permission, she jumped over with an utterly satisfied pose, lying down to her side so that her head was near her leg.

"Much better, isn't it?" Cora brushed her fingers onto her floppy ears before sighing in relax, returning to her needlework.

She was getting good, actually, especially with flowers and little animals like birds, which she usually sewed on elegant branches and fairly leaves, and she adored when Robert asked her to turn her works into pillowcases for the sitting room, making Violet mad. Cora had already knitted one with sparrows and one with colourful flowers and now she was working on a dandy bouquet of pink roses, she was half-way through.

"I think its perfect place will be on Mama's armchair." she giggled to herself. Nefertiti's tail wagged noisily on the red couch's fabric.

She continued with her sewing for several minutes, changing often the shades of pink to recreate a more natural look for her petals, but just when she was about to finish a little blossom, she felt the baby kicking and lost her already loosen grip on her needle, pricking her finger.  
She startled on her seat, throwing her sewing aside, glancing blankly to the tiny red drop on her skin like she'd never seen something similar.  
Oh it wasn't the first time she prickled her finger while sewing and yet.. she couldn't stop staring.  
What was so curious about it, she didn't know.

Cora took her finger to her lips, with a torpid movement that made it look like it had lasted forever.  
She didn't feel any more pain and the metallic taste in her mouth soon departed.  
She felt rather silly, prickling her finger and then acting like some stupid girls afraid of blood, her arms so heavy and her mind so dizzy.

Cora sighed noisily, determined to finish the last rose, however, when she reached for her needle and covered her fourth finger with the thimble, she found a thin bistre stick instead of the needle, stuffed into the weft where she once left it.  
She stared at that strange widget, but she couldn't to it for too long: it appeared it had grown some sort of spikes, very little at first, and now very much present.  
Her finger hurt.

"What-" she cried, only mouthing the rest of her shocked sentence, letting that thing fall to her feet.

Cora heard Nefertiti's yelps getting louder, fear in her eyes, running off the couch and away from the library, tail low. "Come here, girl!" she tried to call her back, but it was useless.

She looked around the room, a tight grip over her chest, a lonely, miserable, fearful sensation growing stronger and stronger with every beat of her running heart.

 _What now?  
Why_, why it always had to be so hard, so weird? Where was Robert?  
Sweet, strong, bold Robert. She was never afraid when he was around, but now..

Cora turned sharply to the big window when the bright sunbeams disappeared in a matter of seconds: the sunny, blue sky without a cloud had been replaced with dark grey storm clouds, rumbling with far away thunders. A light yet dense rain started to fall down.  
Odd was the silent that she heard, expecting the loud rushing of the drops onto the window's glass, or the roar of the lightings striking, or even the wind, howling in distance toward the manor. None of those sound were to be heard.

Unless for a little whoosh, more like a sound of a tearing cloth from beneath her feet.  
The big, elegant, precious carpet was moving.  
Or rather more its intertwined strands, twitching and cutting by the strength of _something_ , pushing from the beneath.

Cora stood up, frightened, figuring it was some disgusting mouse or insect that was making its way out, but instead, from that ripped hole, popped out a tiny sprout.

She farrowed her brows, staring blankly at that unbelievable event, wondering why and how it had been possible.  
It was green at first, then, under the speechless mouth of Cora, before her disbelieving eyes, it grew, darker, until it became brown and tall, quickly, _so quickly_ that Cora jumped back, backing off as long as she could, until she hit painfully the table with her hip.

That plant had turned into a still-growing huge bush of brambles, thorns, dark and gnarled with no leaves, just stings, swirly and cracked branches pointing in all directions. The thorn climbed up the library and the lower shelves were the first to be torn apart, an avalanche of volumes and books falling down into a terrible mountain on the floor.

Then it split in two: the left branch ran to the door, it curled once, twice, around the handle before continuing its ruinous work on the remain stacks; as for the right one, it crawled, serpentine motions, toward her, wrapping around the table's legs, dividing again, once more, so she could had no escape.

Her mind was running wild, her legs trembled, her blood rushing through her veins.  
"Carson!" she cried out, eyeing the rope near the mantel, but just when she decided to take her chance, stepping between the brambles, trying to bypass the danger, she realized she couldn't move.  
Soon the pain followed.  
It was a sharp, bothering pain on both of her wrists, caused by two, thin, ramifications twirling around her skin, digging into her flesh like chains.

Those thorns were keeping her still.. but still for _what_?

Why, why her?  
Why, why Robert wasn't there?  
Why, why it had to be now, when no one could have saved her?

She almost wanted to laugh to her bad luck.. oh, she _was_ going mad.

She tried to wriggle free, but the more she moved, the more tighter the grip got.  
She closed her eyes, strong, certain that sooner or later it all eventually would go away.

Cora strived not to move, moan of pain dying hardly into her throat, until a stinging sensation urged her to open back her eyes: she was well aware of the place she felt those spines were plunging, and with horror she witnessed to her almost healed burnt being brought back to life, with infinite red cuts recreating the circle and the dot.

It couldn't be a coincidence, not now.

Cora tried, again, desperately, to set herself free, yet a skein of brown brambles flew to her, from her toes to her head, trapping her into a dark cocoon of spines and twirling branches.

She knew that the sun was back.  
Hundreds, thousands of tiny holes enacting as many thin streams to her face, to her eyes, brighter and brighter until her eyes started to hurt.

She breathed.

And again.  
The air was so heavy.

Another breath.

She felt like her own ribs were the cage for millions of thorn's spines.  
She couldn't, _mustn't_ , breathe anymore.

But she did.  
And she felt like tearing up.

* * *

" _It's a- a- chemical thing. Like an imbalance.. her hormones.."_

Robert?  
Oh it all was so dizzy. It all felt so distant and heavy.  
Why was he mumbling? _What_ was he mumbling about?

" _Come now, Robert. Insanity is insanity-"_

" _Don't talk like that. I won't allow these speaking in front of her."_

Why did Robert shushed his own mother so harshly?  
And why on earth she didn't reply?

Cora tried hard, again and again, until she managed to lift her heavy lids.

"Silence now, she's waking up." she hated that tone of Robert's. That bossy tone he used so little, not even with the servants.

"Robert?" she spoke so low, yet everyone heard her.

"I'm here, darling." how sweet was his voice now. How soft were his fingers upon her hand "How are you feeling?"

How was she feeling? Good. Rather good, actually. She only felt sore under the white bandages over her wrists, and sleepy like she'd been asleep for entire days.  
"Fine." she only mouthed, her eyes and mind too busy figuring out why Violet and Patrick and her maid were all in her room with concerned looks.

"What happened this time?" she laid her eyes on the oldest woman of the room.  
Her face was contrite, however her voice betrayed her scepticism, her annoyance, her disappointment.

"Mama." and again that harsh tone. Robert didn't even bother to look in Violet's direction.

"It's the shadow. Again." Cora spoke with calm. She was so severe and confident. Her eyes firm and bright. "I swear."

Silence.

She reached for Robert loving, caring, reassuring eyes, but she couldn't. For he was looking down, grave voice.  
"Could you give us a moment, please?" he sounded so polite and yet her heart wouldn't hear of slowing its beats.

Cora sat against the pillows behind her back, waiting in the meanwhile that the room become empty, leaving just the two of them alone, hands joined, eyes locked.  
"There were brambles all over the room, Robert." she began, shaking a little her head to keep the memory at some distance.

"Sweetheart, I talked to Dr. Clarkson.." his voice was smooth and steady.

"And it seemed alive. It captured me, made a cage of thorns." she went on.

"And-" he breathed heavily.

"And I couldn't breathe." she groaned. "It's like I'm imagining things.. like months ago when I couldn't tell if I was dreaming or if I was awake. It's back." she spoked in one gulp "I know it's back, Robert."

Silence.

Why didn't he reply? Why that face? She didn't need any compassion.  
"Hear me out, darling." he caressed her hand once more "There were no brambles in the library."

 _Of course_ , she thought. It's how the shadow works. Did he forget?

"And all of this.." his soft, warm, fingers ran up to her arms, brushing against the new wound "The doctor thinks.."

"The doctor didn't see what we saw, what _you_ saw." she stated, in disbelief.  
She just couldn't believe her ears. After all they have been through.

"I think-" he chocked out. But finally he found the courage to raise his sight, tears were forming at the corners of his eyes "I think we're loosing control.. I think-"

"You think I'm mad!" her blue eyes were painfully glimmering with horror, realization, disappointment, betrayal.

"No, I do not." he muttered. How awfully his voice came out, how trembling; he wouldn't believe himself. "The doctor.."

"How could I ever do that on my own? All by myself, Robert? I have to ask for your help even to reach my favourite books on the shelves!" her desperate voice was cracked, she was sobbing, eyes filled with warm tears.

Silence.

Robert felt like the worst of the criminal alive. Maybe he was. Oh how could he had been so stupid? How could he have doubted?  
She was right, for God's sake.  
She could have never be able to to such things, to destroy the entire library, to cut the carpet, to hurt herself again, in such way.

She was not ill, she was not mad. She was lost, she was alone. It was his job to protect her, to keep her from harm, he was her home, her guardian angel, like he'd promised, so long ago.

He flew to her, holding her close, resting his chin over her head.  
"Of course. Of course, my love. I was dumb." he said sincerely, trying to smooth her sobs "I believe you." that was the word she yearned for. "Will you ever forgive me?"

Cora nodded slowly against his shoulder.  
"Please, please don't leave me alone." she pleaded and Robert's heart ached even more.

"I'm so sorry, my darling.. I-I-"

"I know." she whispered, sighing sharply. "But I need you, Robert. We will defeat.. _it_. Like we did before." he kissed her forehead, nodding himself with a sweet smile which she returned.

"Sure we will, together." their lips met in a tender kiss, her tears falling quickly to the white sheets, but they weren't replaced with new ones. "Don't worry, dear. We'll manage in our own way. No doctors, no third opinion, just us."

She held him again, breathing calmly on his jacket, smiling at the scent of cologne on his shirt.  
That was all she needed to hear. To regain her balance, her courage, her will to fight.

If it was the shadow again, she couldn't tell, but she knew – as now he knew – that something was chasing them, and this time they hadn't the slightest clue of why they were cursed, or when it had happened, or how to defeat it, apart from being brave, not letting the terror and the sorrow it left behind get into them.

"I'll freshen up before dinner.. and then we'll talk with mama and papa." Cora smiled, eyes still circled in red, lips rosy again and curled into a genuine smile.

"Worry not, my sweetest. I'll be at your side as long as you'll bear me." she giggled a little, feeling so much safer when he sat on the bed, knowing he would have wait for her. That evening, the day to come, the months to come, forever.

"It'll be a very long time." she whispered, clenching at the door's frame before vanishing into the washing room "I count on it." Robert send her a kiss.

Both relieved and anxious, she tightened her fingers to the sink and her knuckles went white. What was the real truth? Did she had any power on it? Did she had any control over it? Did he? Did _them_? Was the victory an option this time?

* * *

She needed to hold on.

 _Three more months, three more months._

She needed time to think.  
She stared to her image into the mirror.

All her beliefs now shattering before her eyes. Was it the demon? Was she going mad? After all, Robert was indeed right: something strange was going on, something out of their league, and most of the time she wasn't aware of the whole situation.

By that time, it should have been clear for all the family: her reality was simply different from theirs, from his.  
But that had been their strength: that was the reason why she was still alive, because Robert had been there, ready and able to save her.

Yet, what if the doctor was right and her mind was playing an evil game on her? What did Robert said? ' _Imbalance_ '? ' _Hormones_ '? It was all due to her pregnancy?

Three more months then, three more months and she would have been free.

Maybe they were both right. Maybe her pregnancy was upsetting her balance, playing with her mind, make her doing things, make her seeing things from the frightening experience of months before – the demon, the shadow, the game.

She just pleaded for her baby to be safe, and then for freedom for herself.  
One fact it was sure, one way or the other: she needed care, constant care.  
She would have had to put aside her pride and accept to be treated more like a toddler from everyone, if not for her sake, for her baby's sake.

She loved Robert, she loved their baby and if that was her duty as a mother to be, she would have accomplished it. After all, her loving husband was in charge and he would have taken good care of her as if she would have done if the tables were turned.

She sighed, listening to the relaxing sound of the water rushing from the pitcher to the sink and she splashed cold water into her face, smiling to the exquisite sensation. They would have win, eventually. Like they always did. Together, Robert and herself.  
Oh dear, dearest Robert.. she would have been lost without him.

She wiped her face with a soft towel, picturing in her mind, behind the darkness of her lids, for a moment, just for a moment, a baby into a white cradle, rosy cheeks and chestnut hair and its eyes.. its eyes she couldn't figure them out. Why, it should have been so easy picturing her husband's light blue eyes, so beautiful and gentle.. but she could not.

She bit her lower lip, opening her eyes, face to the mirror.  
And for a moment, just for a moment, her eyes turned brown.

* * *

*The cyclothymic disorder is the first name of the Bipolar Disorder.  
The term cyclothymic was coined in the XIX century by the German psychiatrist Emil Kraepelin.

Cora's symptoms could easily be interpreted by a doctor as a Bipolar disorder: Robert himself reports that she lives moments of joy just before the strange episodes – three of which could be taken as attempts of killing herself. In fact the disorder is a serious mental illness, characterized by periods of great happiness and others of great discomfort and depression; it's all related (often) with chemical imbalances – or in this case the well-known crazy hormones of pregnancy.


	7. Seven, Pink

NdA: Hello my dear Cobert firends, how was your day? I'm happy because I got the result of my English exam and it's really positive and I think it's because of this so.. **thank you all so much for your support!**

In particular, I'd like to give my deep gratitude to witchoesed, Dream of Ragtime, Countess of Cobert & sinceyoufellinlovewithme who reviewed the previous chapter and helped me with my mistakes :P

I'll leave you to the chapter now and for those who follows " _the Way Home_ ", the update will be online on Friday.

I'm note a native so please forgive my mistakes, please feel free to leave a review so I can improve my skills!

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Seven.**  
How marvellous sensation having that velvet embrace upon her skin.  
Soft and warm, the scent of lemon verbena tickling her nose, her lips curled into a genuine smile.  
It didn't last long.  
On the white skin of her back appeared straight lines, sequentially, one after the other, red, then blue, darker and darker, a diamond grid.  
She would have fail, she would have fail.  
 _Pink_. Her lips mouthed the word. Failure. Her heart ached.

 **Mid-November 1890**

 _'You must worry not.'_

Cora read those lines again and again, as those words weren't already carved into her mind.  
How could her mother say so? 'Worry not'? How could she not realize?  
A sentence, a punishment.

 _'It's more like a tradition, poppet.'_

Tradition? It was more like a curse.  
She sighed frustrated, her eyes incapable of bringing to focus due to the warm tears streaming down to her chin.

 _'You should warn your husband and the empress.'_

Her mother had wrote. Joking, Cora knew. And yet it hurt. It hurt so much.  
Oh she hated her mother, hated and loved her, deeply, like she was a teen, unable to understand her humour, her teasing. Sometimes she just sounded like Violet, so much like mama. A simple, innocent joke.. and she felt like the world was spinning beneath her feet. She couldn't bear it, she couldn't.

 _'From generation, the first born of a Levinson wife is been a girl.'_

Girl.  
The word stinging into her brain. _Girl_.  
Cora didn't need a girl, she needed a boy. She needed a boy for Robert, for the estate, for the title, for her pride of being finally a proper wife, despite Violet's harsh beliefs.  
 _'Yet the second is always a boy.'_ The letter went on, but not even the evidence of her younger brother Harold smoothed her pain. ' _And Robert loves you, very much. He'll love your baby, deeply, whether or not it's going to be an earl or a princess.'_

An earl. _A boy_. Let it be it.  
Cora begged, inconsolable.

Why, why did her mother write to her? Why did she say that terrible thing?  
To warn her? To made her aware of the possibility? To enhance her fears? No, mother could have been a lot, but not evil.

She wiped away her tears with the back of her hands, forcing herself to read the last part of her mother's letter, which she hadn't since her eyes had laid on the first paragraph, about half and hour ago.

 _I shipped your bracelet, Cora. Father gave it to you on the day you were born._

Cora paused, took the envelope again, digging trough the folds, until she found a velvet, thin, cyclamen string, so short it could only be the ornament for a newborn wrist.

 _I cannot promise you I'll be able to get there for January, love, but I can promise I'll try. If I won't make it, please take this near you, it'll bring you luck. Mother._

* * *

"She is fine, mama." Robert stated calmly, unable to fully focus on his papers, which he tried to complete since that morning. His mother wouldn't let him, always murmuring something on his back, well aware of the consequences of her own behaviour, not bothering at all if Robert or Patrick's works could have been delayed.

"I'm worried about the future of Downton."

"She's fine." Robert repeated "She has had no accident since last month. She's doing very well." he slightly smiled, remembering for a moment his wife's fairly face when he left her resting three hours ago.

"For now, yes." she shrugged her shoulders. Robert groaned, biting his own tongue, preventing himself to speak further. "But I wasn't talk about her health or the baby's".

This time, Patrick rose first his eyes on his wife. A cloud of white smoke escaping his pipe.

"What were you talking about?" Robert preceded his father, concerned and alarmed look on his face. What was now? On what did she feel like complaining, this time?  
He was already prompt for battle.

"I was talking about your heir." her always wide blue eyes ran around the room, first Patrick, then Robert, felt like that glance was studying them from the inside.

"What about my heir?" inquired Robert, not quite understanding what his mother was after.

"Is it going to _be_ an heir?" her voice was so calm that both of them knew that she was implying something very critical which required an answer.

"Eventually." Patrick sighed with annoyed voice, straighten up his paper and returning to his read as if nothing happened.  
Somehow he knew an heir would have occurred, at some point. He'd bound the fortune, the estate, everything they had.. and of course a male child had always brought pride to the family.  
It was tradition: all the Crawley had baby boys, at some point.

"A male first-born would be much appreciated." Violet stressed, this time her glance was directly turned to Robert.

"I-I know." he mumbled "But I think that, after all, I hope for a healthy baby for the moment. It's been a difficult time. Boy or girl I wouldn't mind as long as Cora-"

"But you should mind!" her palm hit hard the sofa's arm. "Duties, Robert. Duties."

And with that, Robert knew that she would have consider his wife weak, somehow, if she was about to deliver a baby girl.

His mama always talked about duties, to him, to her, duties of being a good lord or a proper wife, mama always gave unwanted tips about raising children, about behaviour in this or that event.. as if Cora had been in the Yorkshire since just one day. She had learnt everything. She'd became _so_ good.  
And she was stronger. She didn't care most of the times. At the contrary, she liked so much teasing Violet when she had the chance, she was superior. She always has been superior.

"We can manage, mama. We're big enough." his voice was serene.

"We'll see about it." groaned Violet, half defeated "But you'd like having a son, Robert?"  
He wasn't expecting that inquiry, not with that tone of voice, with the appearance of an innocent question, a motherly one, a genuine curious one.

His papa was looking at him, blankly.  
Robert knew what he awaited as answer. So he gave him, he gave them.  
"Of course I'd like having a son." his parents shared a stare he didn't quite understand.

"It'll be a boy, then." Patrick smiled back at his son "A good wife like Cora would never fail her husband." he paused "And if it'll be a girl, you'll have plenty of time to try again."

Cora stepped back. Her hand on the way to grasp the handle and enter the room. But she'd froze, attracted by those mumbles she could listen.  
She regretted it.

Now the thin stripe of light on her face, coming from the door ajar, had been replaced by darkness while her figure drew back in the hall.  
Words spinning into her head, her fist closed around the little pink bracelet of hers.

A boy, a boy, _'it'll be a boy'_. She kept hearing, in the low voice of papa.

Oh she tried so hard to be a good wife.. and Robert, sweet Robert did yearn for a boy. And she couldn't give it to him. She couldn't.  
She would have fail him. She would have fail her husband. And failing him would have killed her.  
Was there anything worst in the world?

* * *

She heard the gong echoing through the hall, so Cora diligently dragged herself up the stairs to get ready for dinner.  
How could she possibly forget words from a private talk she'd overheard?  
Simple as that, she could not. She had to live with that awful truth: they all hoped for a male first-born, which was comprehensible, but Robert did too and somehow, she could feel, deep in her heart, that if she hadn't succeed, they would have been disappointed. Robert would have. Mama would have all the rights to complain about her unsuitability, her failure, all the troubles they had to face since her arrival, just for a female first-born in return.

Oh her mother. It was all her fault. Telling her those things. Giving her the sword of Damocles upon her head.  
How could she tell Robert? How could she warn him? How could she tell him that high were the chances of having a girl? How could she bear his anger?  
No, she couldn't bear the thought of making him angry. Her loving, sweet, caring husband to be mad at her because she couldn't gift him with what he yearned.  
It should had been so little compared to what he had done for her.  
He would have had all the rights to be mad, facing that unpleasant possibility; her almost _certain_ possibility.

"Are you ready to change, Milady?" she jerked awkwardly on her chair, realising she didn't quite notice her maid entering the room, knocking on the door – as her knuckles were still on the white wood – and waiting for her permission to get in properly.  
A delicate scent of lemon verbena preceded her into the room. Cora loved that perfume, she'd learnt to link it with her maid, to her cares, her complicity and her kindness.

"Yes." her voice trembled. Cora cleared her throat "Please, O'Connor."

The maid laid the velvet blue dress she'd previously chose on the bed, before approaching to her mistress, beginning to untie her afternoon gown with rhythmic movements. She didn't questioned the odd silence of the other woman, who so likely talked to her about this or that subject.  
"Do you feel quite all-right, Milady?" she asked concerned, feeling like bursting due to the awkward and embarrassing silence between them: she was not used to it, she didn't quite recall, in fact, a single occasion in almost two years, in which they didn't speak – a part in the presence of his Lordship, of course.

"Yes, O'Connor." the maid glanced briefly at the mirror, just to look the perfectly polite – and fake – smile of her mistress, her blue eyes more shiny than the usual.

"Shall I loosen the corset*?" she helped out of the dress and folded it up on her arm, waiting for her response. She kept asking every evening that question, knowing her bother of having it on all day long despite her condition and every so often she even got a positive answer, so Evaleen just brought dark gown for the last meal of the day, so that no one could notice her more-rounded middle.

"Yes, maybe." she breathed out, her hand rested on her bump while standing up to simplify her job.  
Cora barely heard the second knock on the dividing door and her maid had to call her twice before she answered.

"It's Robert." his voice came muffled from the other side of the door. "Are you ready? Can I come in?"

Cora sighed harshly, closing her eyes. 'No' she wanted to shout, she wanted to keep that moment so distant. She didn't want to speak with him, she didn't want to see him, because she knew that he'll _know_. He'll know she'd heard. He'll know her fears. He'll know the truth, the terrible truth and he'd be disappointed. He'd apologiezed to free her from the guilt. She didn't want to face him. No.  
"Yes." she blurted out, much without thinking.

O'Connor went stiff and the Cora realized: she wasn't ready at all. Not when she was wearing only her corset and her socks.. he could not most certainly come in.  
But he did. He did, of course, because she'd told him to.

"I- er.." Robert stood on the entrance for a blank moment before entering, closing the door behind him with a soft thump. What on earth had come to his wife? "I can come later." he murmured, his eyes flying to Cora, her maid and back to Cora.

"No." Cora said, sighing again "No," she repeated softer "Thanks, that would be all, O'Connor." her maid glanced at her with horror.

"Milady?"

"I can manage." they both know she could not manage, but how could she ever contradict her own mistress? "It's only the dress I have to wear." yes that made sense. Of course his Lordship would have helped her, he always did.

"Milady." she gave her a sweet smile and passed Robert, who had settled himself near the bed, without sitting on it, and left the room.

"Darling, are you feeling ill?" it was quite strange indeed that his wife was behaving like that. Telling him to come in when she wasn't suppose to allow him entrance, her low eyes, her stiff breath. He could tell she was warm from distance.

"Not ill, Robert. I-" she paused "I didn't have the right. I should forget. But I can not. And I should wait to talk to you after dinner but I can not do the either. I can not go downstairs with your mother-" she was talking in a rush and Robert just ran to her after her first words, embracing her, urging her to let all the stirring in her body. She was _trembling_ by nervousness.

He couldn't bear this.  
"There now, dear. Please tell me. What has gotten in to you?" his voice was smooth and calm like always. "And please turn around." as soon as she did what he asked, Cora felt his inexpert fingers work on her corset's strings. He'd asked and asked, under the doctor's suggestion, to use it very loosely and now that she was upset, her chest needed more space for breathing properly.

"I'm going to fail you." she sighed, suddenly revealed by the almost-total absence of pressure on her stomach.

"Fail me?" he was shocked "How could you ever fail me?"

"You see.. I- I- might have overheard you conversation with mama before and-" she held her breath, realizing he was lacing up the corset again "I know you all want me to produce a boy."

"Darling-"

"But Mother wrote and I- I quite likely am going to give you a girl. I fear – it's too tight – I know you'll be disappointed." she heard his thin chuckles. "Robert!" Cora sharply turned her head to look at her husband over her shoulder.

"I would much love to have a girl, my darling."

That was unexpected.  
"You don't mean it for sure.." her voice was flat, but Robert kept going.

"I must confess I'd like a little you running around, making mama mad." Cora drew a sharp breath. "My parents do wish to hang a blue ribbon on the nursery's door**. But I do not care."

"I thought you said-"

"I was just avoiding a debate with mama, you know she can be quite impossible." he said sincerely. "I thought you'd learned the tricks of the trade. More indulges less troubles." He knew she had all the right to be upset after hearing that compromising conversation with his parents, yet he pleaded that Cora could have seen his true intentions.

Oh how much he loved her, how much he'd love that child, boy or girl.  
Cora stared at him. She was sure he was too good to confess his real thoughts.

He loved her too much to make her feel unsuitable.  
He loved her too much to _lie_ to her.

And against all odds, she began to believe him.  
Truth was, she loved him back, with the same strength and fondness.  
She believed him, she could easily imagine him with a little lord, as she could easily imagine him with his little princess on his shoulder when no one was watching.

"What if-" she was breathing again, quickly, although now she wasn't upset but happy, so much happy that her sight went watery "What-" she moistened her lower lip "Please untie it." she chocked out, gesturing the corset. Cora felt him do it, but this time it brought no relief. She ignored it. "What if it's a girl?"

"It means that the ribbon shall be pink." he smiled to her, kissing her shoulder and neck, bare and warm. "You are going to make me so happy, Cora, so proud. I hardly care about our baby's gender as long as you and the little one are safe and sound."

"Robert-" he let his finger drop into a long caress from her back to her hips, slowly reaching her front. He rested his hands on her belly, wrapping her into a warm embrace. Robert felt her breath grew faster under his arms – was he grasping her too hard?  
The way she whispered his name.. he thought her hoarse tone was due to her joy and ease.. and now, could it be something else?

"Cora-?"

"It's too tight." she chocked.

What? What was too tight?

And the he saw. Maybe in the heat of the moment he'd tided up the strings instead of doing the exact opposite – a mechanical gesture since the military training, like he did with his boots or when he came to deal with strings in general.  
But he was so sure, he was so sure. He didn't do it, he most certainly didn't.  
He rushed to dig his fingers into the diamond web, but it was indeed to tight and he was too alarmed to move smoothly.

"Quick!" Cora pleaded. Robert panicked. What did he done? He was so sure, he was so sure he saw the strings hanging there, all untied and yet.. and yet..  
He tossed the corset away, without quizzing how he managed to get rid of that atrocious device, and he caught her in time, preventing her to hit the ground.

Cora hadn't passed out, but she was panting, her eyes glassy, her body so warm and stiff. That was close. So close.  
"Cora? Cora?" she merely nodded and closed her eyes, resting into her husband's hold.

* * *

For a short moment, her sight had gone dark.  
It had been enough to bring all her feelings back.  
Her senses and her anxieties battling in her mind.  
Her joys and her frights were now combined.

She soon realized she wasn't destined to be happy, nor without worries; her heart ached. It was a small wave of fear. Something that now should have been fine and that it was not.  
Why now it was all coming back? She didn't mind failing the others.. not when all her world was Robert, not when all what mattered was Robert. And he'd given his blessing, hadn't he?

Robert had been so kind, so lovely, so perfect. He'd smoothed her fears, he'd told her beautiful things about their future child and she should have been happy, just happy. Yet her heart ran slow and her chest was clenching so painfully she still felt her corset on.

Her sight was dizzy, her breath so keen, her ears rang.

 _It'll be a girl, a girl._

It was her mother's voice. It wasn't her ironical tone, she didn't feel like laughing at all. The fear was back, the sorrow, as if she wasn't able to live without those, not anymore. Fear and sorrow had become part of her.

 _A girl, a girl._

It was a mantra. It was a curse. A curse she was not suppose to fear, not now.. yet she did.

 _The ribbon shall be pink. It shall be pink._

* * *

*Odd as it seems, corsets were used by all women, all the time. Pregnancy was not excuse to avoid wearing those things, even if sometimes – nowadays and I guess back then also – were used for support the back. If you search for them on the net you can see some types designed for pregnant women too, but I hardly think it made the corset more comfortable.

**I don't know if it's costume elsewhere, but here in Italy the arrival of a newborn baby is announced by a blue ribbon (for a boy) or a pink ribbon (for a girl) at the house door. It very much used (it is always used) and I thought it would be nice, even if it is not an English tradition. Let's scroll through if you don't like this for inaccuracy, well, just forgive me :)

 _Also, forgive me for leaving those things open – the chapter to come will be fluffy and cute and creepy (eheh) so stay tuned. See you next week!_


	8. Eight, Red

NdA: Hello hello :) as some of you may know, this is _my_ favourite chapter because I had so much fun while wrtiting it! It's fluff and creepy and mysterious and it has everything I love and also **it's multimedia.. you'll find a note at the bottom. You'll know when to check the note.** You'll judge! ;)

I'm also scared because in 3 days I've got another exam ç_ç so wish me luck!  
Anyway, **thank you all so much for your support!** It really means the world to me. In particular, I'd like to thank with all my heart  lulin, witchoesed, Countess of Cobert, Dream of Ragtime, & sinceyoufellinlovewithme!

Of course the next chapter will be the last one ohh I'm sad xD but I'm planning the sequel. I'll write that new story during the summer - along with _the Way Home_ \- so there "trilogy" will be on hiatus for a while :)

I'm note a native so please forgive my mistakes, also feel free to leave a review so I can improve my skills!

* * *

 **Eight.**  
Her feet landed into a cold moisture.  
A lonely dark drop of rain ran to her toes, it began to grow.  
A large puddle laid around her ankles, soiling them with the dense liquid, transparent, rosy, crimson.  
Her mind began to spin, her sight, although confined in an another dimension, went dim.  
She closed her fists, hard. Nails into the flesh. Blood pouring on her pale fingers.  
 _Red_. Sunset was on its way.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

 **Late December 1890**

"It won't be long, Lady Grantham." the doctor smiled as he stored his tools back in his baggage. "Your hormones level are finally stabilizing. I think you should deliver within three weeks."

"Thank you Doctor." she answered politely, trying to overcome her scepticism toward a physician who proclaimed her mad.  
Though, he was good with everything else, she knew, he'd saved so many in the village..

"Any other episodes?" and there he was, asking things about her demons.  
Cora shook her head, her everlasting smile on her lips. "Very good."

"I was afraid.. and nervous and I kept imagining things, but- but I- His Lordship helped me a lot. He never leaves my side. We're both very thrilled." she said, sweetly and slowly. She knew Robert was listening from his dressing room: she could easily picture him with his ears pressed on the wood like a curious child.

"I'm really happy to hear that." she felt him being sincere, this time. It shouldn't have to be easy for a doctor to admit his mistake, give a strong diagnosis and being proved wrong by his own patience. "Please call me if there are changes. I'll come twice a week until the delivery." Cora nodded him goodbye as he left the room, soon replaced by Robert hopping gleefully toward her from the adjoining room.

"So everything's fine?" he held her crimson robe for her, helping her in and smoothing the angles on her shoulder. He smile instinctively when she folded up the soft belt, which involuntary accentuated her curves. She was really stunning.

"Don't pretend you didn't hear." she giggled, turning slowly to face him and smacking a kiss on his cheek. "Yet to make it more real.. I shall repeat it." she gracefully flew across the room, settling before her vanity, and closed her eyes, sighing in relief "Everything's fine." her chin was high, almost facing the ceiling.

Cora was happy and serene like she hadn't been in months. She couldn't quite remember the last time she felt the same; maybe it was even when she was still in America, a child, unworried. Her troubles had began with her entrance in her twenties, when mother started to take her to balls and parties, when mother started to fill her head with marriage and social status and England and titles and opportunities.  
And then she'd found Robert. _Her_ Robert. Her husband, her everything.

She'd spent so many nights wondering if she might had taken the wrong decision, cursing herself for choosing an unrequited love, dreaming of America and the scent of home.  
Yet now, perhaps for the very first time in her life, everything seemed at its place.  
She had love, she had happiness, she had a future before her and troubles behind.  
Maybe for months she had been her own worst enemy.

Cora simply had to accept the reality, the good future that was waiting for her; she had to stop being afraid of her perfect life, only because she was scared that some troubled might have occurred. She needed to relax, enjoy her blessed awaiting, accept her happiness fully and keep her mind busy just with happy thoughts about her baby, about her favourite foods she was about to eat in the next days, about the incoming Christmas holidays and the snow.

* * *

He was indeed excited.  
Robert felt like a child again, charmed by the ornaments all over the hall and the stairs, thrilled of opening all the presents which already crowded the bottom of the Christmas three. He enjoyed very much decorating it, with Cora of course, both ignoring mama's sighs of disappointment.  
It wasn't at all a low job for the servants; hanging the colourful crystal balls and golden banners on the green branches was beautiful, fun and heart-warming. He'd asked Cora's advice on every little detail, listening to her sweet voice while she instructed him over the best collocation for this or that item.

He loved her dearly, every day a bit more. She'd brought joy and enthusiasm, she was the light, she was the fire in the mantel, she was the spike atop the Christmas three, except that every day, with her, was Christmas day.  
That was his first holiday as a married man, and he felt invincible.  
Robert felt proud about his stunning wife, he felt proud because he'd found the perfect companion who loved and who loved him back and he was proud because he'd succeeded in making her happy.

Oh how much he loved her smile.  
He feared he wouldn't have been able to see it, since her parent's letter had arrived, confirming their absence for the holidays, but Cora took that information very well and Robert suspected that was exactly what she'd hoped for.  
The reason why.. he wasn't sure about that.  
He thought that maybe Cora wanted to be alone for her first Christmas, alone with her new family, far away from everything that could have reminded her to her previous life.  
He thought that maybe Cora wanted to dream just with him, wishing for the snow, sneaking out to buy presents without the duty of being the hostess for their oversea guests.  
And then he thought, lastly, that Cora wanted to spend their first Christmas alone. With as few people as possible.  
Waiting for the dawn or the sunset, daydreaming before the mantel, watching the lazy snowflakes falling down, eating cinnamon biscuits in bed, late at night, whether she had cravings or not. Maybe Cora just wanted to be a wife in her home.  
Maybe Cora wished, for the first time, that quiet life of the common people, so simple and yet so warm, she wished for her fist Christmas to be full of love and excited waiting. After all, he wished for the same.

"Robert?" he rose his chin when he heard the soft voice of his wife calling his name from the corridor.  
She was distant. Maybe she was still on the stairs. She walked slower lately. Maybe he still had time.

He panicked just a little, striving to get up from his knees, his hands out of his own control. And then he heard it: the horrific sound of torn paper.  
Why. _Why_? He'd spent the last half an hour trying to figure how to wrap his special present for Cora and just like that he'd ruined his work.  
What could he do?

"Robert?" this time Cora was nearer and her voice a little worried. He couldn't just remain silent. But what if she would have followed his voice and came into the nursery? "Robert, are you upstairs?" she was almost there.

"I-" he choked "I'm coming!" he yelled back, faking a casual voice.

"Where are you?" Cora was a little far again. She was in their room. He'd gained more time. "Robert, we have to go to Ripon for mama's present." she was coming. _She was coming!_  
Damn Ripon, damn mama, damn presents, damn his own mind that kept forgetting things, too busy thinking about his beautiful wife and unborn baby.

"I'm ready!" he prayed for her to go back on her steps "Wait me downstairs, darling, I'll be there in a minut-" and then he heard the door opening.

He managed to cover his present with his own boy, spreading his arms so she couldn't get a sight of what was lying on the ground, in the middle of the room, despite it was quite large and surely now, with his ripped paper, didn't went unnoticed.

"Robert..?" she left out a soft chuckle. "What are you doing?" she asked, unable not to stare, peeking over his shoulder.

"Please, Cora.. don't look!" he squealed but he knew it was too late for everything. "I- I was planning to show you this on Christmas Eve." he whined, turning his head to take a look of his present. "I would have stolen you from the party and I would have taken you here." he smiled, yielded, and sighed.  
Robert rose up on his feet, trying to still cover as much as possible as he approached to her. "And I would have made you close your eyes." he waited, he waited for her to do so, even if the surprise had been partially spoiled. "And I would have placed you here." he guided gently into the room, stopping right before the centre of the carpet.

"Can I look?" she asked, excitedly.

"Wait." he instructed, kneeling down once again and taking the remaining paper between his fingers, ready to reveal the gift completely "Now. You can look."

Cora opened slowly her eyes in the exact moment in which Robert tossed away the paper. She was left speechless.

Robert had bought a stunning carousel, the biggest she'd ever seen, with white horses and carriages and decorations that had all the shades of yellow, blue and red.

"Robert it's-" he smiled proudly: Cora's smile had never been so wide, her eyes so blue. She was more beautiful than ever. And _his_ gift was the reason.  
Perhaps he was learning how to be a good husband for the woman he so profoundly loved.

"Wait. You still haven't seen the best part.." he worked with his nimble fingers somewhere out of her sight and after seconds of thrilled waiting, the carousel started to move. It span slowly, the horses went up and down sequentially and lastly a soft carillon tune filled the air*. It seemed it belonged to a fairy world.

"Robert.. I really don't know what to say.." Robert looked up at her, an utterly satisfied smile across his face.

"Do you like it?" he enquired the obvious just to see her nod "I thought of you and then I thought about our baby." he sighed "You know, it's our first Christmas together and the last as a couple." he stretched his arm, his eyes locked to her hand until their fingers found each others and he led her to the rocking chair behind him.  
Robert settled closer to her, sitting on the carpet with his cheek on her leg and one hand on her knee. He really couldn't look away from the carousel, hypnotized by that charming motion and tune.

"It's all rushing so fast, isn't it?" Cora's voice had something sad in it, but of course he had too agree with her sentence: they'd married not even a year ago and they were expecting their first child.  
They'd fought a demon in their house and they'd fought another one in her mind.  
They'd lived a lifetime events in few months and yet it all felt so distant compared to what the future promised, compared to their ever-growing love.

"Perhaps, darling. But it's beautiful." he looked up at her when the last note rang in the air.

How did he do that? How did he brush away all her fears, even the smaller ones, with just a word or a smile or a touch?  
Maybe that was the only question that it had to stay unanswered.  
She loved him dearly and he loved her back with the same strength. They both lived in each other and that was the way it had to be. They had learned to trust the other one unconditionally, to prevent each other from falling and now.. now it was impossible for either of them to manage without the other.  
It was right, it was love.

* * *

Cora woke up at the annoying sound of a thunder striking.

She was tired and her head was heavy. What time it was?  
Morning, perhaps? She rolled on her side just to face Robert, but she found his spot empty with the cover undone. Was he gone? Without kissing her good morning?

She sighed frustrated: she hated waking up alone, without him by her side.  
Cora rubbed her eyes, yawning, glancing at the silver clock on the bedside table.  
It tickled funny. And it struck 2 o'clock.

It couldn't be night, thus, because it was too bright outside, even with the heavy grey clouds full of rain and it couldn't be afternoon, of course, because that would have meant that she had slept the entire morning. Why didn't anyone bother to call her? She couldn't believe that. Something was wrong.  
She hurried to get up, glancing one last time at the sky outside the window, which was threatening to unleash the perfect storm.

"Robert?" she called his name, thinking that maybe he was near; after all, he'd never left her alone for long; yet no one answered her. Not him, not a servant telling her where she could've found him, nothing. Was she alone?

She grasped the handle that divided her room from the corridor, but when she tried to open it, she realized she couldn't. She tried once, twice, more firmly, and the door shut open.

She blinked several times.

That definitely was _not_ the corridor of Downton Abbey.  
She instead saw the outside of the estate, with the gardens and her favourite oak, she even saw the marble shrine upon the hill. She felt the wind on her skin, flapping her nightgown and the sky roaring in her ears.

Cora dared to step forward, feeling the wet grass under her foot and then under the other one as well. Was she dreaming?  
She locked her curious eyes to the space surrounding her and decided it was very similar, if not identical, to the encircling the manor. It look very real.

When she turned to face the room again, she notice it had disappeared.  
At its place, only the frame of the door was standing on the ground, planted like a tree between the green blades, waved by the strong wind. It was all so strange.  
The smell of rain tickling her nose, the storm tossing her hair, the leaves flying and all the colours so dark and opaque, almost like it was all black and white with just a little hint of colour.

"Would you like to play?" she jerked when she heard a child voice near her. It belonged to a young girl of nearly five years old, with two pretty caramel braids, one for each shoulder, brown eyes and with a pale pink dress. "It's the perfect time to play." Cora found herself incapable of speaking, taken aback from that little girl.

Her tiny hand slipped in hers, grasping hard, pulling her toward the trees.. she was rather strong.

"Who are you? Where are you taking me?" she finally managed to ask, but the girl shushed her with the little finger on her lips. She then pointed at some bushes while taking small steps behind a tree, big enough to cover them both.

"Do you know how to play hide and seek?" she whispered. Cora blankly stared at her, then nodded. It was getting really strange. "Don't let the eyes see you." the girl instructed.

"What eyes?" Cora frowned, peeking from behind the trunk. The branches moved due to something way more consistent than the wind. She saw a black figure running away.

"The white eyes." the girl answered, then she paused. Her sparkling brown eyes went to the sky and she drew a deep breath "The sunset is on its way. You have to choose." Choose? Did she miss something? Weren't they playing hide and seek? "Listen."

Cora swallowed. The wind was carrying a soft melody, a carillon, like the carousel's tune. She felt the girl squeezing her hand and like if the time had started running slower, she saw the figure again, closer this time, looking at her. She couldn't tell if it was a boy, or girl, or just a shadow, but she could definitely see its eyes, totally white, blinking quickly behind now a tree, now a bush.

And on the calm notes of the carillon, even some horses flew running before her, following invisible paths between the roots.  
It was like the carousel.

And the black figure was closer. Those eyes piercing her soul.

She watched the stallions at full gallop moving at the pace of the slowest walk, and their white fur started to get stained with red dots.

"It has started." Cora turned to the girl, who seemed now afraid, her eyes were just about to fill with tears. "Choose."

The sky turned red with the rumbling of a thunder and the rain started to fall down. It was red, red like blood, and it was warm on the skin, it stank like blood.

Cora was scared by now. She wanted to wake up, but she didn't know how.  
She didn't want those white eyes to get closer, she didn't want to hear that girl cries and she was scared, because she believed that on a similar circumstance, no child would have laugh. She heard that: some child laughing, distant, closer, sometimes in her ears.

"Choose!" the girl screamed and this time her voice had something dark in it.

Cora strived to get away, but the girl squeezed her hand more and more, until her tiny nails dipped in her flesh.  
She cried from pain and finally managed to stand up.

The girl sobbed and covered her face with her hands "The white eyes saw you." she whined. A thunder covered her voice in the exact moment she felt two arms clasping her shoulders from behind. She only took a glimpse of that completely black skin before she felt that thing dragging her away and the final note melting with the wind.

* * *

"Cora, Cora wake up!" her blue eyes shot open.

Robert's face was so close to hers, his hands firmly squeezing her shoulders, shaking her and supporting her. "Oh, darling. It was just a dream." his voice was hoarse, frightened, worried, yet his embrace felt sure, strong and safe.

Was it really _just_ a dream?

Indeed she was in her room, with her husband, in the middle of the night since the window was dark and the only source of light was the mantel, indeed there were no horses or children running and laughing while chasing her, indeed there was no forest and no bleeding clouds on the ceiling.

It had been all so real.

Nightmares again? Hadn't she moved on? Weren't they over?  
What could have possibly scared her so much?

Or maybe it was just her impatient or the human fear all women experience during their first pregnancy?  
After all, the doctor said it could have happened. She hoped she could have been spared, apparently not.

"I can't wait for this to be over." her breath was still worn out after several minutes, her fingers were still clasping his arms.  
Cora closed her eyes, images of the red sunset and the children's laughs ringing in her ears, the little girl's questions hunting her.

"It will be, very soon." when she opened her eyes, Robert was smiling tenderly at her. She felt safe. "We soon will have a little hand to hold. I promise it'll all be over." he buried her into his arms and her chin went to rest on his shoulder.

A little hand. What a beautiful thought, just like in her dream before everything had changed. She closed her fist, remembering that moment that made her heart melt and then she felt it: a sharp pain.

She gasped softly, careful not to alarm Robert, and she rose her hand to her eyes.

There was blood on her palm.

How could it have been? If it had been _just_ a dream?

* * *

*Check out on YouTube " _Le Petit Carillon_ " (Music Box) - the video nor the channel are mine.


	9. Nine, White

NdA: Ohhh it's over, I can't believe this ç_ç  
Hello my dear Cobert fans and welcome to the last chapter of this story. It's been a long journey and it's not over! This summer I'll write the 3rd part, still I can't tell you when it'll be ready, but soon I hope. In the meanwhile, I hope you'll enjoy the last chapter!

I'd like also to thank from the bottom of my heart all the people who review, followed and even favourited this story, so big higs for witchoesed, Countess of Cobert, Dream of Ragtime, sinceyoufellinlovewithme, lulin, Amritasky, xDivashell24x, AllAboutTheAbbey, Melz96, WaltonLover, charmedfanlover, zsimmons14 & my lovely Downtonix to whom I dedicate this & to my fiancé who inspired this since the beginning :)

To all the above and to yuo, silent readers, **thanks for the support**!

For this chapter a lot of small scenes, drama and... well, read to find out ;)

I'm note a native so please forgive my mistakes, also feel free to leave a review so I can improve my skills!

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Nine.**  
She gulped when she felt a firm grasp around her waist.  
She awoke in a blink of an eye, confused and terrified by the sight before her: the void until the cold gravel of the manor's entrance.  
She was on the roof of the Abbey, her feet on the edge of the stone, right atop the short parapet, between the yellow spires.  
Few inches and she would have fallen down.  
Her husband was holding her firmly, sobbing on her neck in despair, or in fear, or both.  
She could've jumped.  
In a matter of instants, if he hadn't catch her just in the right moment.  
 _White_. That was all she saw before fainting in his arms.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

 **Late January 1891**

Cold. Cold, he felt so cold. He wasn't used to feel cold.

He was the one who warmed Cora up, he had done it for the whole winter and now he felt cold. He curled up beneath the sheets, jerking, just to freeze instantly when the vague though of hitting Cora with his legs came in his mind. It had became so hard not to hit her – or her belly – in the last weeks, always lying unceremoniously here and there. But how could he complain? Poor thing, she couldn't quite catch a proper night sleep since days.

Cold. If he was cold, she had to be freezing.

He pulled the covers up, burying his nose and shifted carefully to his right, expecting to bump into her at any moment. He would have hold her and snuggled with her, waiting for the morning and a new day of withdrawal.  
But he shifted and continued to do so. He shifted and shifted, colder and colder, until he reached the edge of the bed.

Where was Cora?

He rose drowsy his head up, fighting with his heavy lids and darkness to find her. No light under the washing room's door, no light under the dressing room.

"Cora?" he called her under his breath and slowly dragged himself up.  
He lighten up a candle and ventured outside the door, eyeing the corridor in both direction.  
No candlelight's halos, no sounds.

"Cora?" he went straight to the nursery, for she used to visit it when she was upset or simply a little nostalgic, but it was locked from the outside and, in fact, it was empty.

He called his wife, again, on the alert for every noise he heard. "Cor-"

"Milord?" Robert jerked and they both gulped.

"Carson-" he choked out. What was he doing up? What time it was?

"Is everything all-right Milord?" he adjusted his own collar.

"I- I can't find her Ladyship." he muttered. "She- wasn't in her room." he quite ignored of how odd and inappropriate that sentence was, admitting to his butler his possible presence into his wife's room when they should have stayed separate.

"Her Ladyship?" he repeated "I didn't see anyone, milord. All was quite as always downstairs. I was finishing my midnight patrol of the house." he stated proudly.

"Good, good." he wasn't very much listening "Will you help me find her?" he asked, without a blink.

"Of course, Milord." Carson cleared his throat "I'll check the first level again and then the attic-"

"Milord!" they both sharply turned when a feminine voice, loud and frightened, reached their ears.

"Miss O'Connor!" Carson's voice was outraged: a lady's maid in her nightgown, padding barefoot in the bedroom's floor, her hair down and with her bonnet in hand. "This is highly inapp-" but the girl didn't listened. She ran instead faster, toward Robert, panting.

"I saw her Ladyship walking in the attic!" she breathed "I was returning to my room and I saw her! She was behind the glass door but- I'm sure she was her, and – and I wanted to stop her but- I haven't got the key!" Robert couldn't quite follow her mumbling.  
Cora! She had seen Cora. Where was she now? Was she all-right?

"Speak!"

"She was heading to the roof!"

* * *

Evaleen could have wake Mrs Hughes, begged her to open the door and ran with her following her Ladyship, yet she didn't. She chose to search for his Lordship instead.  
Did she do the right thing?  
In her mind, only her Ladyship's husband was able to help her. What if she needed someone to stop her from doing something?  
Her or Mrs. Hughes would have been totally useless.  
But what if they'd come too late? A sense of guilt and regret was eating her soul.

"Quick!" ordered Robert, heading the small group as soon as the dividing door had been opened.  
He climbed up the stairs, his breath panting between the tight walls of the servant's corridors, following the path he learnt by heart when he was a little boy to reach for the roof. He prayed and begged to be on time.  
Only God knew what she had in mind.  
Robert almost banged down the last door.

Cora was walking toward the edge of the roof, smiling serene, her arms opened, blood dripping from her fingers, her nightgown and hair tossed by the wind.

"Cora!" was she sleepwalking? Her eyes were closed and of course she was unaware of the whole situation.

Robert didn't think twice before running to her, yet every step he took, was an agony for his body, a sting piercing his brain. He was so close and yet so distant.

One step and his eyes were covered by a black paint, wiped away by a lonely blink; two steps and the rain started to fall, small hail hitting noisily the stone beneath his feet; tree steps and his ears rang with distant horse's neighs and his breath was caught like he was standing on the edge of a high cliff; four steps and a whirlwind of green leaves flew toward him, blinding him for a long instant; five steps and his hands burned, painfully, making him loose balance for a while; six steps and his eyes started to leak bitter tears – he couldn't know, of course, but his iris became brown between the blinking – and his sight went dim; seven steps and he felt like chocking, as if string had been wrapped around his neck, released after few painful breaths; eight steps and his ears started to rang with the carillon tune.

Robert went on.

He didn't let any of that frightful things that just happened control him. Cora was just a step away from him.

Cora needed him.

He stretched his arm and wrapped his arms around her waist, preventing her from falling, just in time.  
He held her tight, whispering on her neck with his gasping breath.

Before his eyes, a black shadow floated in the air. Its extremities smoky limb outstretched toward Cora, slowly moving around her tensed body.

"Leave us alone!" Robert screamed, ordered, pleaded. He pulled Cora back, squeezing her tighter, determined.

The shadow tried to get closer, yet, when Robert rose his hand, soiled by his own blood, the demon was rejected by an invisible force. It was like story repeating itself.

When all his family defeated the demon, months before, it had been a collective effort, ended with the expulsion of the damned shadow. The final act had been made by Cora and he always had believed that it was thanks to her blood, spilled both on the iron cross and on the ouija board, that the ritual had been successful.

It had worked like holy water.

Maybe it could have worked another time.

"Do you hear me?" Robert rose his voice again "I command you to leave us alone!"

The shadow floated still, in front of them, spreading low noises of distant lonely cries all around. It stopped, then rushed against them with furious speed.

It dissolved in the exact moment it touched their bodies.  
Nothing but the cold wind was left.

Was it over?

"Cora, darling?" he gasped, supporting her while she tried to turn herself around, avoiding her sight to look further at the close edge before the void. Maybe this time it was gone for good.

She once cast it away and now he did that too.

The shadow, the demon had been real. It had always been real.. yet now they knew for sure how to stop it.

"Robert?" Cora's voice was so thin he could barely heard it.

He held her close, rubbing her back, protecting her body from the cold.  
"It's over now, Cora. For good, I hope." he sighed, his eyes rushing around, worried. He saw nothing. "I know it. I promise it's going to be all right."

"Robert?"

"Yes?" he kissed her forehead dearly.

"I think the baby's coming." she whispered, before her body grew heavier on his arms and her head fell unconscious on his shoulder.

* * *

So the rush back to bedroom had been a nightmare since the first step. The house had been awoken with the fire bell echoing through the corridors and the halls, yet everyone knew there was no fire at all.  
All the servants got dressed in few minutes, the butler and the housekeeper had been once again witnesses of the mystery dwelling upon the Viscount and the Viscountess of Downton and they both begged for a good riddance of the shadow, once and for all. For the moment, they both tried to denied what happened, too worry and busy about the faith of their mistress and her unborn child.  
The coachman and one footman had been sent to the doctor's house, the maids worked hard and in hurry to prepare everything that might had been needed for the birth, the cook settled the biggest cauldron on the fire to get the water boil.

Upstairs, things weren't more placid than in the lower levels: along with Violet, Patrick and Martha rushed frantically down the corridors screaming in panic and horror at the sight of Cora lying as a lifeless doll in her husband's arms, her nightgown soiled, both their hands covered in blood.

"What happened?" breathed Martha terrified.

"There's no time for that, she needs help!" yelled back Robert, heading to their room.

Martha had managed to get to England barely a week earlier, paying a good little fortune to be one of the passengers on the transatlantic that brought her there. She skipped a waiting list of months, yet what a Levinson wished a Levinson obtained, especially if that Levinson was Martha. She thought she would have been arrived with a little Crawley wailing in its cradle, yet, with her joy and Violet's great regret, she'd found Cora late in her delivery which left her able to assist at the birth.

Little did she know she would have assist to this.

Cora had wrote several times about that shadow upon their life, yet Martha always thought about a feeling, a dark vibe of guilt or regret for the choice she made in marrying an English Lord; she'd never thought of something real, threatening their lives with constant tests.

Robert stayed at his wife's side for as long as he could. He squeezed her hand, looking hopefully in her direction when her blue eyes, full of frighten and pain, flew open, just for few seconds. He'd have whispered encouraging words, telling her how much he loved her and how much brave and strong she was, even if he wasn't sure she'd understood. Sometimes she seemed fully aware, some others she just mumbled things without meaning.

"Come on, son, we'll wait in the library. Your mother and Martha will take care of Cora until the doctor arrives." he barely heard his father's words, coming from the door's frame. The birthing room somehow became a holy ground for men, and Patrick avoided to step in, trying to persuade his son to follow him into a safer area of the house.

Robert didn't answer.

He kissed his wife's knuckles dearly, instead, helping her maid who she was settling a pile of cushions behind her back, basins of cold water with floating rags, which she regularly wrung out to cool her mistress' burning skin.

"Will you stay with me, Robert?" he turned sharply his head to Cora's face. He locked his light blue eyes in hers, watery and red. She seemed conscious.

"Of course." he immediately stated "Of course I'll stay, forever."

Minutes passed and the room fell into an anxious state of deadlock. The air was heavy and also the silence, interrupted only by moans of pain and sweet words of comfort. Nothing seemed to have changed when the doctor arrived, instead it seemed to getting worst every second for Cora.. which was good, as Martha and Violet told him, rubbing his back and squeezing his arm to urge him to join his father in the library.

Robert wouldn't even consider it.

"Doctor, is everything going to be all-right?" Martha's worried voice welcomed the doctor as he entered the room. He didn't have to visit his patient to instruct his nurse and Cora's maid to get the work started.

"Yes." he simply stated, silently inquiring Robert on the nature of all that blood that clearly didn't involve the delivery.

"Everything has been settled, doctor. Just think about her, now." Robert briefed, unable to break the contact with his wife, his voice flat and low.

"Good." the doctor nodded "I believe it's going to take quite some time. Lady Grantham is strong yet the baby is overdue. I see no danger, for the moment, a part from that difficulty."

"Can we stay?" Violet's voice overtook all the others sounds that filled the room since. It was obvious she wanted the doctor to tell Robert to leave the room, that maybe he would have listen to him instead of the pledge of his own parents and family.

"Actually, Lady Grantham, I would prefer few people as possible." he cleared his throat when he realized he went unheard by the worried husband "Just one from the family."

"I'll stay." blurted Martha "I'm her mother. This is not a place for men."

"I agree." Violet nodded to Martha, maybe for the first time in their life seeing each other as partners. "Robert, come." she said firmly, but he shook his head.

"Lord Grantham, I must insist." pleaded the doctor, removing his jacket and preparing himself with his white smock.

Robert's fingers ran on Cora's forehead, though her damp hair, on which he placed a soft kiss. He was battling hard with himself, knowing it was the best for everyone to be somewhere else instead of standing in the way, yet he couldn't bare the thought of leaving his wife like that.  
He was almost grateful when Martha pulled him from the chair, urging him to leave the room, firmly and yet reassuring.

"Everything is going to be fine, Robert dear, but you must cooperate!"

"But I promised her- I promised I'd be at her side!" Martha pushed him harder toward the door. Was he blaming the fear, desperation, agony.. fact was, he couldn't fight back, and soon enough he found himself standing in the doorway, Martha before him, hands gripped on the wood, ready to shut it into his face.

She drew a sharp breath.  
"The doctor will take good care of her and I will be at her side the whole time" was that compassion in her eyes?

"I should be there. I promised her." he went on, tears rolling down his cheek.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Robert."

* * *

He fast turned around when a scream of pure agony reached his ears. His trembling fingers made him loose grip on his whisky glass and he spilled some on the red carpet.

Violet didn't complained like she would have certainly done in any other situations, but she scoffed loudly instead, because after all she _had_ to show her disappointment someway.

"Robert, don't fuss like that. You are making me nervous." she stated, flat voice.

"Did you hear _that_?" his light blue eyes was glimmering in concerned and shock.

"Of course I did." she huffed "Your wife is giving birth." surely he needed a reminder.

"I bet no man could ever do that, son." Patrick chuckled a little before closing his book – which he wasn't really reading – with a soft thump.

Violet was staring at her husband like he'd said the first wise thing in centuries.

"But-" Robert remained with his mouth slightly open, his lower lip trembling without a purpose, tears stinging into his eyes. He was scared, so scared because something could went wrong, because he wasn't next to her, holding her hand like he'd promised, because he couldn't whisper into her hears to ease her pain, he was so scared because he felt so powerless, pacing nervously on the carpet, drinking whiskey as the only things he could do as a man in that situation.  
He sighed loudly, regaining himself, fighting back the tears and he casually extended his path around the room. He went by the library, running his sight on the books, placing slowly one foot before the other until he reached the closed door that led into the main hall.

"Robert-" Violet huffed again, trying to call back her son from the exit door. She knew he wanted to hear _something_ , she knew that even a tiny sign of improvement could be a relief for his anxious soul, but she also knew, as she learned, Robert loved his wife, deeply, and he suffered if she was in pain: listening to her agonizing moans was no help for him. "Please, get back-" but she stopped and shot herself up on her feet.

Robert felt like his ears could have fallen off from his head for how much he'd stretched them. Oh how much pain did he hear in that loud cry, louder than any of the previous ones, but somehow his heart was telling him that it was over, that his wife was free from that agony and he was happy and in awe.

Yet, silence followed, and Robert didn't get _why_.  
Why he couldn't hear any baby's keen cry or why anyone hadn't come down to the library yet.

He stared at the clock. Five minutes, ten, fifteen.. The library, as the entire house, was wrapped into a thick coat of eagerness, waiting, hope, fear and, above all, silence.

"Shouldn't we hear some cries?" Robert turned sharply to his mother, who was hugging the back of her seat, the red couch, eyes locked to the same door her son was staring few moments ago.

"Not all babies cry. Beside, we're too far away to hear that sort of things.." Violet's sharp voice made its way trough the heavy air of the room.

Their distance from Cora's room was an evidence, yet, Patrick fought hard the impulse of telling them about several years before, when he _did_ hear both of their children first cries into the world – although very low. He didn't speak to avoid the growth of his son's unquiet trepidation.

"Rosamund did." Robert's flat voice caught both his parents by surprise.

He was six when his sister was born, but he kind of remember the screeches of his baby sister while playing into the library with his wooden building blocks with his father. He remembered him smoking like a madman and his face striving to remain blank when his worry was blatant. It was more like a childhood trauma.

"Rosamund doesn't count." scoffed Violet "She's always been a trying one. For example you didn't cry at all. You were a proper, well breed, English baby. A destined earl to be."

"But my baby _is_ half American, mama." usually he'd have tease his mother on this aspect, yet he hadn't the chance to get too far. He just wanted to hear something, he just wanted to hear some good news from above "So I should hear the baby crying and fussing around, am I right?" Violet stood still and silent. Of course the answer was positive, but she collected enough self-control not to bother Robert's patience.

"Well- maybe the baby is-" the words died in her throat.

Suddenly they _did_ hear something, but something none of them was expecting.

Quiet moans reached his ears once again and.. and it was poor Cora's tormented voice, once again atrocious laments.  
It had been a false alarm, then: the matter wasn't over.

Robert sighed discouraged, letting his body to fall into the orange armchair, his hands burying his face.

* * *

Robert seemed a nervous stallion at its first race, before Cora's room door, staring at the wood, listening to every little sound coming from it. He could hear the doctor's muffled voice, some soft giggle after someone mentioned his own name, he heard of course that odd American's laugh and once.. once he'd even heard a soft coo, followed by a distant little lullaby that carried the melodious voice of Cora. His heart skipped not one, but several beats.

When finally the door opened, he couldn't help showing a bright, widen smile, which he helplessly directed to Martha, completely unaware of his presence right behind the door. Their faces were so close and he had that creepy smile across his face.

"Sweet Lord!" she yelled instantly, her hand on her chest.

"Can I come in?!" he asked excited, peeking over her shoulders without much success.

"Yes, my boy." she chuckled, shaking her head. She couldn't remember a single man so impatient to meet his child "But don't be so loud, they're resting." she warned. Robert smiled happily when he noticed that her eyes were red. It was obvious that she had been crying. "I'm going to tell the Empress she's a Grandma."

Robert nodded before entering the room.

Dr. Clarkson and a nurse were busy in a corner of a room with their tools, Cora's maid, O'Connor, was leaving, not before making her congratulations, but he hadn't had ears for her: his eyes, smile, heart, all his body and soul were only for Cora, leant on a pile of pillows behind her back, and to the little bundle resting on her chest.

At every step he made toward her side, he could cherish another detail of that moment in his heart. From the tired yet utterly happy face of his wife, her eyes incapable of breaking the contact with that little thing, her finger playing softly with the most little fist he'd ever seen, her voice whispering secrets which were not for him to hear.

"My darling.." he said just above whisper, afraid to spoil that perfect moment, afraid it all could break like crystal at the first wrong move.

Cora smiled, taking a brief sharp breath which strived to contain tears of joy.

"Isn't she precious?" she simply asked, removing a corner of the white blanket to reveal a tiny head, few dark hair and the most angelic sleepy face on earth.

" _She_?" he only enquired, too overwhelmed to speak further.

"Your first-born is a girl." she confirmed "You're not disappointed, aren't you?" for the first time, Cora looked directly at him. His face was a sufficient answer: he was smiling and crying all in the same time.

"No. No, I'm not disappointed." he stretched his arm to cup her face with his warm hand. Her beautiful eyes were sparkling despite the clear tiredness.

Robert dared to touch his baby's rosy skin. His finger could cherish her little arm's length with a tiny movement. She looked so innocent and defenceless, so fragile, so small.. maybe _too_ small, her breath was so soft it could hardly be heard.

"She's light as a snowflake." Cora giggled and for a moment he was sure that she wanted him to cradle the baby. Robert was afraid he would have hurt her.

"She's so small." he farrowed his brows "She's fine, isn't she?"

Cora swallowed and sighed tenderly.

"She will be." she stated "She just need some extra care, but she's fine." he smiled in relief.

"You're truly a princess." he giggled: seeing that little one on Cora's chest, he couldn't understand how a similar tinghy needed that much space over nine months "Your mama complained a lot because you made her look big. You're already a very demanding little Countess."

"Robert!" Cora let out a soft chuckle "You know she's going to have everything she wants because you'll make it happen. Beside her need of space was reasonable."

"Was it?" he cooed, impatient to see his daughter's eyes when the baby started to show the firsts symptoms of an upcoming awakening.

"It was."

It that very moment, Robert heard a sound he didn't see coming. It was a distant gurgle, a newborn's, but it didn't come from his little girl.

"He's ready now." the nurse stepped nearer them with a totally unexpected second bundle carefully cradled in her arms. Robert was speechless when another baby was placed in his arms. This one was clearly stronger and bigger, the picture of health.

"And your second-born is a boy." announced Cora, biting on her bottom lips, knowing that her surprise had been a success. She achieved in giving her beloved husband an heir and a daughter too.

"Cora I- I don't know what to say.." he mumbled between laughs and tears of joy "You made me the happiest man in the world." he finally managed to sincerely state.

Cora giggled, returning the loving kiss he was brushing against her lips.

"Why don't we start with some names?" she proposed, suddenly noticing that they hadn't speak once about names at all. That was a terrible lack and yet.. she felt it was also right that way, so she could have named her children looking at their faces.

"I like Mary." Robert whispered, his wet smile focused on the little girl.  
He'd spoke with determination. It was obvious he'd been thinking about names without telling her. Cora wasn't angry at all.

"And Josephine." she added.

He chuckled, well remembering the origin of that name: her favourite book, her favourite character in _Little Women_.

"All-right. Mary Josephine Crawley.. it rings." he nodded satisfied "And what about this big boy?" he rocked him a little, brushing his finger between the thin blond hair covering his head.

"It has to start with M." Cora chewed on her bottom lip "What about Michael?"

"And Henry for second name. He's going to be my heir and he will rule the estate one day. Henry has the perfect meaning for all of that." Cora smiled tenderly at both of her newborns.

"I think those are the perfect names for them." she agreed. "Here she is.." she tenderly poked the girl's cheek with the back of her finger when she yawned, opening shyly two big brown eyes, curious and fierce. "She looks like your father." she giggled.

"She does." chuckled Robert, watching his daughter in awe.  
She was truly a wonder, gracious like the mother and proud like the father.

"There's a competitor right here." he chuckled gently patting the bundle in his arms "Let's show the ladies how good we are.." he encouraged, poking his nose to make the boy sneeze. He yearned for a baby boy who looked exactly like him, and his son was already halfway with his light hair, a pale blue pair of eyes would have complete the job.

"Robert, let's switch them, I want to hold him too." begged Cora, impatient to cradle her little boy for the first time. She prepared to welcome both of her children so Robert could have picked the girl up, but a second before Michael touched her skin, Robert suddenly retracted his arms, squeezing the baby to his chest.

His eyes fussed for a moment, searching for the doctor's glance.

Cora panicked.

"What? What's wrong, Robert?" her heart was in her throat.

"His eyes.." his lips remained parted when he bent a little over his wife, showing her the little boy sweet face "His eyes are white." two pircing black pupils swam into two candid pools until they meet the different shades of blue of his parents' eyes.

Newborns don't smile, they say.

Michael did.

* * *

 _I really hope you liked this._  
 _See you guys around! Have an amazing day and enjoy your summer :)_


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